Inheritance: Reckoning
by No1OfConsequence
Summary: The world is breaking. It began with the Return of Eragon, cracked further with the war in Surda, and the Divide between the Dragon Riders and the Empire has grown too great. Now it will all end; now is the time of their Reckoning! (Series ender. Please read Return, Surda, and Divide in that order beforehand so that you know what's going on.)
1. Where it Ended

Rose walked through the grove with a heavy heart. This was the Forest of the Fallen, where all the Elves who died during the Battle of Urȗ'baen were buried. The trees here were mature for their age as Elven magic had been used to strengthen and age them. It was nearly eleven years that they were planted, and that was cause enough for sorrow.

It was almost eleven years since her sister Tuami fell in battle against Lord Barst. She fell with valor and honor, but she had fallen leaving Rose alone in the world, Last of the Red Sisters. She had loved her sister and still missed her dearly. She wanted Tuami to return and be alright, but she could not; there was no coming back from the grave.

Out of respect for her sister, she did not wear the face of a Human on the pilgrimage, which was early to avoid other Elves being here at the same time, and instead had restored her face to that which she had been born to wear. Her hair was also black like she had once had, but it had been a very difficult and painful process to make it so. Changing the color of her hair, cutting off her brown locks, and then finally forcing the black hair to grow was especially painful, but she wished to show respect for her fallen sister and could think of no way to do it other than to wear her proper face. At least, that was what she believed.

Her sister fully supported her wish to look beautiful, even if what was only in her eye. While some thought Humans were ugly because of their roughness, it was that roughness was what Rose thought was so beautiful about them instead of the delicateness of the Elves. Even now the face she wore was relatively Humanlike for Elves, though it seemed she was simply born that way.

As Rose came upon a walnut tree, she stopped in front of it. This was the tree that had been planted in honor of Tuami. This was her tree. Why she had chosen a walnut tree eluded Rose as she had never like walnuts particularly, but that mystery would never be solved unless there was an afterlife, which she sincerely hoped there was.

The thought of an afterlife was appealing to Rose. It meant that all that was lost would be made whole again, and what was taken would be given back. While some Elves in their arrogance only believed in what they could see, Rose knew that just because it is hidden does not mean it doesn't exist. If there was no belief in what could be and only what is, then there would be no discovery—like the discovery of the land of Alagaësia—and no growth or progress. It makes a people become weak, backwards, stagnant, and dead, like the Elves would be had it not been for their unrelenting cheeriness and denial. Rose believed in an afterlife because it was something she hoped to discover one day, which was more hope than any Elf who had ever lived might have.

Rose knelt before the walnut tree, trying to keep back tears, and began to speak. "I'm sorry for skipping last year," she said sadly. "I was busy and I couldn't leave what I was doing. I was actually training a Dragon Rider. I know it's strange and unlikely, but I did it. Her name is Lynde and her Dragon named herself Artsanna. Yes, that is a Human name; Lynde's a Human. I still like Humans better than Elves. I hope they become more Human because of the pact with the Dragons, not more Elf, because at least they try to do better than previous generations and don't have them linger and control everything."

Rose smiled, thinking on the adventures she and Lynde had. "We went all over Alagaësia together. No, I haven't yet gone to the Dwarven lands, and yes I still mean to do so. It's just that it's so hot in Surda and I don't want to make the trip until winter. But the four of us still had great adventures. Oh, I forgot to mention Arlen; he's a Human swordsman who I've seen defeat Elves. I know it's strange, but he has!

"You know how father always told me that getting involved with Humans would get me into trouble? Well it did. We've fought Shades—yes, that is plural, Shades—and gotten involved in a Surdan rebellion against the Empire. Don't worry; I can still handle myself and so could they.

"I've met a lot of old friends on my journey too. I met Cade; he's all grown up and has a family. I met Fayre too. She actually married, and Lynde's her daughter. She married a good man, Herbst, who is tricky one to say the least. He accompanied us after…" Then she remembered what happened at Dras-Blӧthr and said, "Fayre's dead now; died defending me. I'm running out of people to care about. I suppose that's what will happen when you make friends of Humans, but it's still more than I can take."

She lowered her head in shame. She couldn't hold back her tears now, but at least she could hide them from prying eyes. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I hope you can. It's hard being immortal and seeing everyone else die around you. I've been through dark times and times of peace. It doesn't even feel like peace now, just a quick breath before another plunge into war."

She looked up and saw hanging from the tree all the red ribbons she had put there. Each year she would come her, talk to Tuami, and place a ribbon teared off her red cloak on the branches of her tree. Last year had been different, but this year she would try to make up for it and place the tenth ribbon.

She took out her dagger, which she called Laufsbläd, and cut a strip of cloth off her cloak. It was only an inch or two wide, and about six inches long, but any longer and she might fear that her cloak might run out. Even now, if she kept up this tradition, she might run out of strips in less than a century. She would have to acquire a new cloak by then, though she would still keep doing it until the tree was completely clothed in red—the color of a warrior.

She placed the ribbon on a low hanging branch that had no other strips on it, and knelt down again, placing her cheek and hand against the trunk of the tree. "One day I hope to join you, Tuami," she sighed. "One day." She closed her eyes and enjoyed the shade of the tree, the cool breeze blowing from the north, and the smell of the forest.

She stayed there for a long while until a voice disturbed her. "Oh, so you're the one who's been doing this." She drew her dagger and prepared for a fight when she saw who had spoken. It looked like an Elf with a long, well groomed, gray beard, but that seemed more out of a dream than anything in reality. His voice was real though and he said, "Who are you?"

Seeing that he meant no harm, she sheathed her blade and said, "I am Ro… Lilyon, sister of Tuami." She realized that he probably only know her by her Elven name if he even knew that, and giving her Elven name might help convince him that she was the sister of another Elf and not some pretender.

The Elf smiled through her beard and said, "Ah, I know of you. You are, in some ways, an outcast because of what you have done in the farther past and what you did in the nearer past. But even an outcast will not be rebuked by me."

He bowed, his beard touching the ground has he did. "I am Meinris, the groundskeeper of this forest. I have tended the trees since they were saplings and seeds and the graves were new. I was here when they were buried and I keep them from being chopped down. I collect fruit and nut in their season, and I protect them from storms that would threaten them. I have seen many pilgrimages come by here, especially in the early days and on the fifth and tenth years that they have been here. I find it strange you would come on the eleventh."

Rose nodded and said, "I was busy last year and couldn't come." She did not think she should be here much longer and added, "I should leave."

"Perhaps," Meinris said nodding. "But I have seen those who have sat by the tree of a loved one for days or even months before leaving. We are not like Humans who bury their dead and move on. Each life is precious to us, and we mourn longer because of it. Do not forsake your feelings; let them out and accept them."

Rose lowered her head and stated, "I carry her grave with me wherever I go. I see her when I last saw her before she left, and then I see this tree. I should not be here longer than I need to or else I fear I may be here forever."

"Forever is a long time, especially for an Elf," Meinris said.

"And yet it is what I feel would happen if I linger here any longer," Rose said. "Farewell."

She marched out of the forest, but as she did the wind picked up and she hung onto a tree so that she would not fear being carried away. The leaves shook and branches flew off as this wind blew past. She would not have turned towards it unless she smelled something different in it; something like a Dragon. She looked into the wind and saw the cause of it: it was Thorn, the ruby Dragon of Murtagh the Traitor, flying towards Ilirea.

She felt like running, but also felt that she should be fighting him. She took her longbow from around her shoulder and drew it back with one arrow loaded and held two more at the stave. As soon as she was sure she would hit, she'd fire an arrow right for Murtagh's head.

But something strange happened. Murtagh and Thorn were closer to the city than to Rose, so they soldiers over there would be in a better position to start shooting at him, and yet no arrows were fired at him. He should have been taken as a threat, but the soldiers seemed not even to acknowledge he was there. The pair flew over Ilirea's great walls and into the city, and there were no sounds of battle from within. Rose had no idea what had just happened.

She lowered her bow and looked to Meinris standing nearby, equally dumbstruck by the experience. No matter what this meant, Rose knew the Riders had to hear of it and she might as well be the first. But she was unsure where the Riders stayed while in Alagaësia, and would have a hard time finding it.

If there was to be difficulty in this quest, she needed a better bow than the yew bow she got from Dras-Blӧthr. She needed a bow like her old one. She needed a bow worthy of a Daughter of the Bow, and she knew just where she could get one.

She ran back into the forest and went straight to Tuami's tree. While she was hesitant to do this to her sister's tree, it almost seemed like the reason she had a walnut tree. While most didn't make bows out of walnut trees, Rose knew exactly how to.

When she got there, Meinris asked calmly, "What are you doing?"

She looked and him and said, "I am making a bow from my sister's tree." Meinris's eyes widened with surprise. "Don't try to stop me. It was what she would have wanted."

"If any have the right, it is you," Meinris said, surprising Rose with his willingness for her to do this. It seemed odd for the caretaker of the forest to allow someone to make a bow from a tree under his care. "I have eaten the nuts off her tree for eleven seasons," Meinris said, "if I have that right, then you have this one." She smiled at his approval and began the spell.

She began to sing for a longbow to come from the trunk of the tree. She sung the spell to the irregular and stirring tune of one of Tuami's favorite songs—one of honor, courage, love, and victory—as it seemed the only fitting thing to do. While she sang she made sure to give the wood certain unusual qualities. While it would retain its strength, it would become bendable in such a way that it would not break when she suddenly pulled back on it with all her strength or held it in place for hours and would even fight back against it. It was easier to reduce qualities of a hardwood rather than enhance the qualities of softwood. She made it a perfect bow for one of her strength and skill.

When she was done she beheld it. The dull brown color was telling of it being walnut wood, but it felt different. She bent it, but it fought against her significantly. That was excellent because then it would allow her to fire arrows that would go much faster and go longer distances, making impacts deadly. It looked to be a good bow, but she needed a proper bowstring or else it wasn't going to work.

She considered what to make the bowstring out of. Her hair wasn't long enough to do, but she could grow it out. She spoke a spell to make a lock of her hair to grow faster than the others, and it grew until it was at her ankles. She then commanded it to fall off, which it did, and then she began to grow the missing hair back—a bald spot was not something she wanted, not matter how small it was. She then took the hair and—because she didn't want to take so long making it manually—spoke a spell that wound it into a thin rope. She tied it to the ends of her bow stave and she was done; the bow was complete.

She wanted to test it, so she went outside the forest, and remembering an old tree she saw over a nearby hill, she began to take aim. She drew the bow back, it fighting her all the way, and fired it over the hill. She then went to the top of the hill and used her excellent sight to see the arrow over halfway stuck in the tree. Satisfied with the test of range, she pulled another arrow back to test the accuracy. She fired from atop the hill and split the last arrow down the middle perfectly. It passed her test and now she was ready to use it in battle.

She was ready to go to war, if need be, but not as Rose. She could not call herself a Human name any longer. She would use her Elven name henceforth until her death. She was Lilyon the Wanderer, sister of Tuami, Last of the Red Sisters, Sixth Daughter of the Bow, Redcloak, and Shadeslayer. All would fear her name or learn to fear her bow.

Now Lilyon set out on her trek to find the Rider stronghold in Alagaësia, or at least some Rider to tell of Murtagh and Thorn's return. It might be easy or it might be difficult, but she would do it nonetheless. And she would do it for the dead and so the living may not need join them yet.


	2. Beginning of Growth

Arlen walked through the door of Ludger's tavern to find very few people there. It was far enough into the afternoon that everyone who was going to have lunch there had already left, but early enough that no one was showing up for dinner—which considering it was the tail end of harvest, not as many people would be showing up for. It was a lull period for everyone who worked there; a time when a good long break could be taken. Arlen hoped Leonie wanted to take a break with him.

He found Leonie sitting at a table with her head being supported by one hand and her golden hair covering half her narrow face. Her visible eye—that was a blue like the sky after sunset—locked with his eyes and she said painfully, "I have a headache."

He sat across from her and asked in a low voice so as not to upset her headache, "Rough day?"

"I'd nod, but that'd hurt," Leonie said. "So yeah, rough day. Have you ever had people shouting at you trying to all get what they want at the same time?"

Arlen nodded and whispered, "Yeah, it's called a fight."

Leonie smiled. "Now that's why I keep you around. You're not trying to make some remedy that I hadn't already thought of. You're not trying to get Chelsa to whip up something. You just talk to me like it's nothin, and that it is. I figure it'll go away eventually as long as there aren't any loud noises—that's what me mum taught me."

Arlen smiled. He was glad to see Leonie think well of him about something, even if it was something of a flaw. He believed that if he or someone else had a problem, they should deal with on their own until they needed help. If she asked for help with her headache, he would have gladly given it to her, but she didn't so he didn't. Sometimes he didn't always follow this, but he tried his best and hoped no one would mind if he didn't immediately offer help the second someone stubbed their toe.

"You know, Arlen," Leonie said, "this job is a hard one. I'd like to be done with it."

Arlen nodded. He could tell what she was trying to say. Ludger and his family had taken her in out of charity and because of her job as a barmaid, and she kept at that job because there was no other place to go. She had few skills that people would pay her for around here, so this was her only place to find work and lodging. She was trapped, and the only way out was to do something drastic like marry someone.

Arlen did love her, but it seemed too soon to marry. It had nothing to do with age or season, but rather with how long they'd known each other. He had only met her that summer, and while they had gotten to know each other very well in that time, it still seemed too soon for them to marry. He sighed and said, "As much as I value your company, and I'd like to spend more time with you, I can't do much about it."

Leonie frowned and said dejectedly, "I understand."

"Someday, perhaps, but not today."

Leonie was quiet for a while before saying, "I think I want to be alone."

As she got up, Arlen got up as well. This hadn't been what he wanted. "Leonie…" he started.

She waved him off saying, "I have a headache."

As she began to head into the backroom of the Tavern, the front door burst open. Arlen whipped around to see Detlef standing there, a village guard and one of Ludger's twin sons, out of breath. He managed to say through his heavy breathing, "The Elves are here."

Arlen moved past Detlef outside and began running to the outskirts of town. During the summer a Ra'zac had come, and in an effort to destroy him, the Dragon Magnora burned down the East Forest near Cathalorn. While there were other woods near Cathalorn, it was still a blow to the village. So Alaric, Rider of Magnora and Chief of the Dragon Riders in Alagaësia—a title that he had admitted to being nothing but one since the return of Eragon—had promised that a company of Elves would come to restore the West Forest as a sort of compensation for their troubles. Now that the Elves were here—according to Detlef—he would go meet them as the one who killed the Ra'zac.

He made it to the edge of town and ran through the ashes of the West Forest to the ferry dock on the other side. Before he was even close to the dock he could see Magnora next to it, and as he came closer he saw Alaric and the leaders of the village meeting with the Elves. Among them was Arlen's brother Ehren representing the village guard. He slowed his pace as he approached the meeting.

The Elves were not as he remembered them being. They had kind faces, long flowing robes, and wore no weapons on them. The Elves he knew were warriors, fierce and dangerous who thought practically about their attire and wouldn't be caught dead without a weapon. He supposed that he had only seen the warriors of the Elves and never those who were accomplished elsewhere.

The one who was talking most was an Elf woman with hair a brownish orange like a leaf in autumn. Her robes were simple and black, like one who was in mourning, though for what Arlen didn't know. She had graceful movements as she talked with her hands just as much as her melodious voice. "I regret not coming sooner," she said, "but had I known the forest was to be burned at all, I would have raced to protect it. I would have had me and my Elves destroy the Ra'zac ourselves before laying waste to this place where such beauty lay now in ashes."

Alaric bowed and said, "I am sorry, Naule, but I acted how I believed was best. Do not blame the villagers or Magnora for this, for it was my idea and mine alone."

The Elf woman—whose name seemed to be Naule—nodded deeply and raised Alaric's face up. "I understand your actions. It has taken me this long to get here, and your call came in late summer. Now, in mid-autumn, I arrive. It is I who should apologize if anyone should."

"No, fair Naule," Alaric said. "I am glad you came at all and did not think us unworthy of your presence after this."

"To the contrary," Naule said, raising a hand gracefully, "I come only because there is healing to be done and I am the healer." Arlen found this contest of politeness and grand talking a little dull and frustrating. They both knew what had to be done, so why wouldn't they just do it? Seemingly sensing Arlen's thoughts even though he was sure his defenses had not been penetrated, Naule looked at him. "And this is the one who killed the Ra'zac?"

Arlen nodded. "I am Arlen of Cathalorn."

Naule looked amused at that. "You have many names, I hear, that least of all. You are Shadeslayer, Dragon Friend, Elfslayer, and more recently Ra'zac Bane. While I understand your hesitance at using the name of Elfslayer, why not use one of your more impressive ones?"

The answer came easily to him. "Because I am proudest of my home's name rather than my own."

Naule nodded smiling. "I see your heart is in the right place to be a warrior. Mine is more suited to be a keeper of the woods though, as is evidenced by my presence here."

"If it isn't too much to ask," Ehren interjected, drawing the attention of just about everyone, "when will you be starting?"

Naule looked at the forest gravely and raised her hands. "I had planned to start after me and my companions had gotten some rest, but as I looked upon these ruins, I feel such sorrow that I cannot continue without mending some hurt. I shall begin my work at once." She turned to her Elves and said, "If you wish a pause between traveling and working, I shall not stop you."

There was some outrage among the Elves, and one Elf man stepped forward and said, "No, Wise One, we shall do as you do and begin immediately. What sacrifice you make, we would gladly match tenfold."

Naule smiled and said, "You honor me, my disciple. We shall all begin if we are all ready." After a chorus of yeses the Elves went to work.

The Elves slowly walked into the ashes and over burnt trees to seemingly random places and began to plant seeds, nuts, and saplings from out of their robes. Now that they had separated, Arlen saw that there were thirteen in all, and to Arlen that seemed a small number to restore the forest. After a while of planting, they knelt down and began to do something Arlen hadn't expected: sing.

Their song sounded beautiful to Arlen, even though he couldn't understand it. At first it sounded sad and mournful, but then it began to change as some other things did. Their plantings began to grow quickly as their song took a quieter happier note. As they did, the fog began to thicken and lower over the Elves and their plantings. It almost sounded like it was raining within the fog, but Arlen did not know. After many hours, the fog disappeared and revealed the forest that had grown there.

It was amazing that in less than an afternoon they had grown oak, pine, and spruce trees as tall as Arlen in the area around the ferry dock, allowing for a pathway through. Bushes with berries and thorns had grown around them to be mature in their own respects. Grass had even grown and the fog above the forest seemed to have disappeared and Arlen could see the blue sky above. The East Forest seemed well on its way to recovering.

The Elves however looked like they needed to recover themselves. As they began to stand many stumbled. Alaric went to Naule who would have fallen over had it not been for him. Oddly enough her dress seemed to have changed color from black to gray, which Arlen just chocked up to magic or her being an Elf or both. The Elves seemed tired but glad from their work.

Arlen was glad as well to see the forest return, though its leaves seemed to be confused. They looked like it was still summer or spring, not autumn. It was as if they wanted to be like the evergreens that had been planted alongside them. Perhaps they would right themselves eventually.

Arlen and the village leaders went to Naule to thank her. She seemed more than ready for that though. "Gentlemen, what I have done here is only the beginning of our work. It will take many more days, perhaps even weeks to finish it."

Brynner—the oldest and wisest man of Cathalorn—stepped forward and spoke what seemed to be on Arlen's mind. "You have does us a great service already," he said. The old man then bowed and said, "Cathalorn thanks you for what you have done and what you will do."

"You are welcome, Brynner of Cathalorn," Naule replied as she bowed.

As they both rose, Brynner said, "Allow us to hold a feast in honor of you and your acts."

She waved her hand low and said, "I would not until our task is done. For now I would ask for lodging wherever you see fit."

"Of course," Brynner said as he nodded. "I will talk with Ludger and he shall give you rooms and whatever food you wish and he can find." As Naule and Brynner walked and talked towards Cathalorn, Arlen thought that the Elf was one of the kindest people he had ever met. Perhaps they weren't all dangerous killers after all.

* * *

 **Oh, by the way, to the guest who said that elves don't have beards: if** **Blöhdgarm can turn himself into a furry on a whim, an elf can give himself a beard so that humans respect him. Magic.**


	3. The Silver Blade

Lynde rested the flat of her new sword—Iet'baen—upon her shoulder as she met Ivuldr in the dueling room. Today was the day. He had always figured some way of avoiding this, but this time Lynde had gotten Razrok to get him here. She was glad that Razrok felt the same as she did, and now, in the dueling room, they met for battle. Now nothing would save him from defeat, because today was the day. Today was the day Lynde battled Ivuldr for the last time.

The two of them had sparred for much of her time at the Tower of the Dragon Riders. The two of them had inspired each other to do better and to fight harder. Lynde had developed her skills wielding a Kull sized blade fighting him, and Ivuldr had always improved his existent skills to match hers. But soon her time as a Rider in training would end, and all Lynde needed to do was prove her skill with a blade to end it.

She had learned much at the Tower. She'd learned to read in both the Human language and letters and the Ancient Language—which she found even harder to do. She had learned much about magic and was more creative and skillful than before. She had learned only the minimum of the Rider's requirements of diplomacy, history, philosophy, and the various cultures that inhabited Alagaësia. She had also learned of weather, aerodynamics, and other things from Artsanna and her lessons—which she did not think she would find nearly as useful as her silver companion. And finally she learned swordplay, which she was about to prove in front of Hvirag, Razrok, Ivuldr, and many other Riders and students gathered.

Lynde lowered her silver blade Iet'baen, which was less than a foot shorter than she was tall. She gripped the blade just beyond the hilt with her left hand, where it was dull and easier to handle, so that she had better balance. This weapon was made for a warrior of her strength and skill; this weapon was made for her. Hopefully she would not fail.

She looked across at Ivuldr with his curved white gold sword and hair as green as pine needles and was confident in her victory. He was unsure of himself, evidenced by the change in his hair from black with a white strip down it, which was hideous, to his new green hair, which Lynde thought was even worse. The Elf had avoided combat with her for so long that she now believed him incapable of winning. With this in mind, she said, "You may make the first move."

Ivuldr took her challenge and lunged at her sloppily. Lynde parried and lunged, letting go with left hand as she did. Ivuldr stumbled to the side just in time. Lynde pulled her sword back to strike him, but he jumped into the air most unexpectedly and swung his sword at her head. She barely ducked in time, and he landed expertly behind her.

Lynde was so stunned by the revelation that Ivuldr had been playing the fool in this fight that she almost didn't have enough time to parry his next blow. Each of his moves was now careful and showing of the skill he had initially hidden from Lynde. She batted away lunge after lunge, keeping him at a distance so that he wouldn't be able to get close enough to hit her.

Ivuldr then jumped back and threw his sword at Lynde. She swung madly to block the projectile, and managed to deflect it onto the ground, losing her balance in the process. But now Ivuldr was weaponless and she intended to keep him that way.

She stood over his sword, grinning ear to ear. Without his weapon he couldn't fight properly, and both of them knew that. Or at least she did as Ivuldr didn't seem to have quite as hopeless an expression as she thought he would, given the situation. She knew how stoic Elves could be, and they didn't always display all the emotions they felt, but she expected some sort of reaction.

Ivuldr charged at her, which she responded to by thrusting her sword in his direction. He dodged the attack and then grabbed onto the sword. She tried pulling it back, but his Elven strength was such that she couldn't. Instead Ivuldr suddenly and violently swung the sword so that Lynde would be thrown to the ground. The air left her lungs as she struck the hard floor, but she didn't have time to recover as Ivuldr approached, throwing Iet'baen to the side.

Lynde dashed to Ivuldr's sword and swung it at him. He moved his head and chest out of the way, but he was still close enough that she could kick him in the knee. He yelped as Lynde rolled backwards onto her feet, Ivuldr's white gold sword in hand.

Lynde lunged at Ivuldr, but he grabbed the sword and put it under his arm and held it there so she couldn't retrieve it. She kneed him in the side and he gasped, but he managed to sweep her remaining leg out from under her with his weak one. She fell again, but held onto Ivuldr's sword as she did, pulling him down too.

She threw him off after he landed, but he was in a position to twist her wrist so that she would relinquish the sword in her hand. After she got her hand back and massaged her wrist a little, she saw Ivuldr rise and lower her sword down towards her. She rolled to her side and barely avoided the blade. She then got up and ran to her weapon as it lay on the ground.

As she retrieved Iet'baen, Ivuldr made one last mad charge towards her. She swung her sword at him as he did, and the strike caught him in the side—or it would have had it not been for his wards. With that strike the battle was over and Ivuldr was defeated.

Hvirag clapped for her as several others began to as well. The large Dwarf approached her and said, "Good job, Lynde. Defeating an Elf is no easy business, even one such as Ivuldr. You have proven yourself a student of mine admirably."

Lynde smiled and said, "Thank you." It made her feel good to have Hvirag's approval.

Ivuldr sheathed his sword as he said, "You got lucky."

"As Kaesdir would say if he were here," Hvirag noted as he wagged a finger, "there is no such thing as luck."

"After that duel, I can only believe that luck was involved somewhere," Ivuldr said.

Razrok scoffed at his Elven student. "Luck is an excuse for those who are either too humble to admit victory or too sore to admit defeat."

Ivuldr looked like he was about to say some mean remark, but instead he bowed his head. "Yes, Master Razrok." With that conversation done, Lynde and Hvirag left the dueling room.

The sun was bright, but a chill wind blew upon the air. It was most certainly autumn now and she missed summer. It was especially sad since she hadn't gotten to seen Cathalorn in the summer, or at least the Spine, which was a wondrous sight with the summer sun shining on its white snow. Even more than that she missed Gelsey, who had raised her, and Edana, her adoptive sister. But greater than that she missed her father and Arlen and Rose. She missed everyone in the old world, the world to the west of the Unknown Lands. Fortunately she would be able to get back to it soon with her training almost being done.

Hvirag said to her without taking his eyes off the path, "The trousers helped, didn't they?" He referred to the fact that some time after her battle with Shruikan she started wearing trousers instead of skirts. They were helpful in battle, certainly, but she always felt like it was indecent somehow. While she did not show skin she did show her form beneath her waist a little too much, which still felt bad. She had seen other women Riders wear trousers, but it still felt wrong somehow.

To answer Hvirag's question, Lynde said, "Yes, but I'd rather not where them too often. I don't like them."

Hvirag nodded. "I understand, but you can't change every time you expect or win a battle. I'll have Jeneve figure a solution, but for now you can wear a skirt over the trousers if that will make you feel comfortable."

It did a little, but not much. Though it was the thought that counted so Lynde said, "Thank you."

She soon split off from Hvirag and headed for the dormitories to get that skirt on. As she had gotten inside, Artsanna contacted her mentally. She seemed to be happy, but in a strange way. It had been like this since Baeguirn had returned, and Lynde could tell they fancied each other. The biggest clue was Artsanna's dirty thoughts every time either of them thought about Baeguirn long enough. Fortunately they went outside of mental range when they met up so she was spared the details of their encounters.

Artsanna had a strange grogginess in her voice as she spoke to Lynde. _So how did your duel go?_

 _It went well; I won,_ Lynde replied. She was concerned about Artsanna as she added, _Are you alright?_

 _I am fine._ Lynde entered her room as Artsanna said, _Baeguirn and I mated._ Lynde felt a shock through her system at the news. She sat down on the bed to avoid falling over. Lynde hadn't been keeping any of this from Artsanna so it wasn't surprising when she asked, _Are you alright?_

 _Yes,_ Lynde said, still reeling from Artsanna's news. _You're mated?_

 _Yes._ After a slight pause she added, _As Humans say, I am sorry you were not invited, but you would not have liked it anyway. A Dragon mating is much different to a Human wedding, and guests are usually unwanted._

Lynde felt like vomiting. The thought of Dragons… She wanted to get that out of her head immediately. It was barely worse than thinking her parents had to do that for her to be born. If she was the type to commit suicide, that would be the trigger.

 _Lynde, stop being a child about this,_ Artsanna said.

 _A child? You're less than two!_

 _Dragons can mate at six months,_ Artsanna noted. _The fact I have not yet done so in this time of crisis for the Dragons is stranger than doing it now instead of later._

Lynde still couldn't wrap her head around this. _So you're married—sorry—mated to Baeguirn?_

 _In a way yes. We have agreed to stay together until whatever eggs we might have are all hatched, and from there we don't know._

She felt like vomiting even more. _That is not a good agreement. That's like waiting until a child is born to split up. That is more like an animal than a proud Dragon._

Artsanna conceded to that. _I suppose, but it is a strange time. Baeguirn and I may stay together longer. I do not know what Dragon mating customs are except what I hear from my beloved Baeguirn, and he seems quite knowledgeable about it._

 _Probably because he helped make them up,_ Lynde pointed out half as a joke. Artsanna snickered in her mind, gladdening Lynde. One thing she wondered was, _Do you know if you… conceived I think the word is?_

 _No, not yet. I believe there are spells that can help divine it though._

 _Good. We'll see if Karasi knows them, and if she does, we can find out if you can be expecting an egg any time soon._ It was fortunate that Karasi the dark skinned healer Rider had been around since Lynde and Artsanna's battle with Shruikan. The reason she gave was so that her Dragon—Shival as he was named—could spend time with Jeneve the Shade looking Rider's Dragon, Shadow. Apparently the red Dragons were father and son, or whatever Dragons might call that relationship. Since Karasi stayed with Shival, they could ask the dark skinned Rider about this subject.

Artsanna was hesitant though. _I believe I wish to sleep before doing that. It was somewhat tiring to…_

 _Okay, you can take a nap,_ Lynde said, not wanting any more details than she already knew. _We'll do it later then._


	4. An Unwelcome Call

Arlen and Alaric were sitting by the edge of Cathalorn, watching the Elves at their work restoring the forest, and talking. As it turned out they had a lot to talk about as they had both been through things that few ever did. They talked about many things, but mostly Arlen was thinking of some of the more questionable things that had happened during his adventures.

"Can a Shade die because of using too much energy in a spell?" Arlen asked.

Alaric shrugged. "They can die but I don't know whether they'd die permanently or not. Tyra died that way and we haven't seen her since then, so I'd have to say she's gone for good."

Arlen frowned. The answer didn't satisfy him as the Shades Council had remained hidden for so long under the watch of the Riders. If one of them were still alive the Riders may not know of their continued existence. That led him into his next question. "How did the Shade Council stay hidden for so long?"

Alaric sighed and began to explain. "Well we didn't know Vras was even alive, so that answers that. Tyra kept herself hidden so we kept searching for her with no avail until the Fall and Galbatorix took over. And then there was Raud who we thought had died multiple times in various duels with Riders of old. Each time the Rider and Dragon died in the process and each time they couldn't find any trace of escape. And every time he came back stronger than ever, sometimes decades apart, until the Fall of the Dragon Riders.

"After the Fall, Galbatorix took over and we weren't sure if he killed the Shades or if they were just in hiding. We know that they didn't side with him, seeing as how Durza was the only Shade working as an underling of the Empire, but we didn't know if they died or not. Raud's theft of Artsanna's egg was the first we heard of them in this era."

While the facts did sound believable, he had to ask, "How do you know all this about the history of the Riders of old?"

Alaric hesitated before saying, "We recovered records from the old Rider stronghold on Vroengard." Alaric's answer was nervous as if he were lying. If he were lying, the true answer had to be a great secret, one that someone like Arlen shouldn't know. He decided not to press him for the real answer as if he shouldn't be told it, he shouldn't ask for it.

Instead Arlen asked a different question that had been troubling him for some time. "Why didn't the Empire send help while we were being plagued by the Ra'zac?"

"Well I suppose they have just fought a war on the other side of the Empire, so they still might be recovering," Alaric speculated. "Alternatively, since this is a somewhat remote village, they could have mustered a force and would still be somewhat lost in finding a way here by the time you kill the Ra'zac. Or…"

Arlen could guess what was next and why Alaric was hesitant to say it. "Or they just hate me for aiding Lynde during the rebellion."

Alaric shrugged. "It's doubtful. Queen Nasuada is usually a kind leader, but in recent times her kindness has been taken advantage of. Her sending assassins to kill Lynde may have been her way of trying to gain fear and respect for those who she believes do not deserve mercy. It failed horribly, but I would think she knows how to give charity better than terror. Of course now she's to be removed from power because of her mistake."

Arlen's eyes widened at the news. "She's not going to be the queen anymore?"

"No, you see…" He stopped suddenly and had a look like he was being contacted by his Dragon Magnora. He knew the sort of look from seeing it on Lynde's face from time to time. He held up a hand and said, "I've got to go. Someone's trying to contact me."

Alaric ran towards Magnora in a nearby clearing and got something out of her saddlebags. The way the light reflected off it he assumed it was a small mirror. He began talking to it like a person and Arlen figured out that someone was probably talking back to the Rider Chief as well. Arlen wondered who it was, but that was none of his business.

Alaric's conversation didn't last long and soon he returned the mirror and went back over to Arlen. He had a grave look about him. "I have put off a meeting with the Elders long enough. Now that Naule and her company are here, I cannot avoid it any longer. I shall go as late as tomorrow morning, I think."

Arlen felt something compel him into saying, "Would it be too much to ask to let me go with you as far as Gil'ead?"

Alaric frowned. "Why do you want to go to Gil'ead?"

Arlen quickly explained. "I want to know why the Empire didn't send forces to Cathalorn, and I think Gil'ead is the place find out."

Alaric nodded. "I understand and it won't be much trouble. I would ask though if you believe your family is ready for you to go again."

Arlen hadn't considered that. Last time he went he needed to escape the place of his father's death, but this time… this time it was idle curiosity. He didn't need to find out why they didn't send anyone. It would be a long trip back as well without a horse or a Dragon. It could be weeks before he made it back home. He couldn't leave Leonie and his family that long.

There was some force driving him to do it though. If he had made an enemy of Queen Nasuada, he wanted to know it. And he couldn't just assume that he had or hadn't because it could affect how he acted. He didn't want to be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life for no reason or not look over it at the wrong moment. He had to know for his sake and the sake of his family.

Arlen sighed and said, "Hopefully they will."

* * *

That night Arlen went home for supper and found not only his mother and Ehren but Leonie as well. He was surprised to see her there and his mother explained, "I thought it would be good if she had a meal with us. We don't see much of her outside of the tavern. Ehren and I would like to get to know her a little better." Arlen went along with it, and saw that with Leonie here he could tell the three people he was closest to in Cathalorn about his trip.

Dinner was vegetable stew with mainly carrots, turnips, and cabbage in it. He could taste a little beef in it as well, but didn't find much. There didn't seem to be any seasoning in it, but that was alright; something with so many fresh vegetables in it would be hard to find soon enough. It was all the more wonderful that his mother cooked it though.

Throughout the dinner his mother, Ehren, and Leonie all talked. It started out a little cold, but by the end they were laughing together about something or other. Arlen didn't want to end it, but he knew that he had to so that he could tell what he was going to do tomorrow.

At the end of the meal, when all the bowls were empty, Arlen stood up from his chair to say what he had intended to since he came in through the door. They all looked at him curiously, and he hesitated before saying, "I… I am going away tomorrow for Gil'ead." Their smiles disappeared; Ehren seemed merely angry while his mother looked more afraid. Leonie hid her emotions, but Arlen guessed that she was like them and didn't like the idea of him leaving. He summoned the courage to finish his speech and said, "I would like to know why none of the Empire's troops were sent here during the Ra'zac crisis; if they were late or if they were looking for revenge."

Ehren and his mother calmed somewhat, but still looked unhappy. Ehren stood up and said, "You don't have to go. If they want vengeance, then going to them would be unwise and you could die. If it wasn't anything like that, then you don't need to go. I should go instead."

Arlen patted him on the shoulder and said, "If they knew that you were my brother and wanted to hurt me, they'd kill you. If I go, then at least only I would die and the feud would be over. But if that is not the case at all, then at the very least it should be someone who commands respect that asks, and I may be just that person with titles like Shadelsayer and Ra'zac Bane."

Unsatisfied, Ehren said, "At least let me go with you."

"No. Cathalorn needs you here. We don't have time to get another leader of the guard, no matter how fast you find him," looking to their mother Arlen realized she might volunteer—she might even be good at it to with her experience with a blade and dealing coolly with aggressive men for the past twenty or so years—and added, "or her."

Ehren nodded. "I suppose you don't want Mom to go either?"

"I don't want to go," their mother said. "I haven't been feeling too well lately." Arlen looked at his mother concernedly before she added, "It's probably nothing; I'll be fine in a few days."

That wasn't enough for Arlen. "You should see Chelsa about it."

She waved him off though. "I'm fine, just not up for what you're suggesting." That didn't make him feel much better, but he doubted there was much else he could do about it.

"When do ya leave?" Leonie asked, her voice tight and making Arlen worry for her.

He answered simply, "Tomorrow morning with Alaric."

Leonie nodded. After a long pause she said in that same tight voice, "I should go home soon."

"Leonie…" Arlen started as she got up and began to leave. His heart sank as she walked out the door and closed it behind her.

"Go after her!" his mother said urgently. "The last thing she needs is to think you don't care."

Arlen ran to the door and found that Leonie hadn't gotten far. She hadn't even made it down the front porch steps before sitting down with her head hunched over. Arlen slowly sat down next to her and saw tears forming in her eyes with the darkness of the night around her.

He was about to say something when she said, "Before you ask, I'm okay. I'm…" She turned her head to look at him. "I don't want you to go. It was bad enough when you were going to fight the Ra'zac, but it's worse now. Now I won't know if you're alright until you come back."

Arlen tried to put his arm around her but she knocked it away saying angrily, "No, don't try that! I want ya to stay, not for me to feel better about ya leaving."

Arlen was helpless to feel bad for her. He didn't want to give her grief, but he had anyway. As Leonie stood up to get away from him she said bitterly, "Why doesn't your family stop ya?"

He stood and replied, "Because they know I can take care of myself. I have the titles I do for a reason, and that is knowing more than just how to use a blade but how they will. I understand their fighting and so no one can stop me if my arms don't fail. I've lost fights, but I've always survived."

"But what if this time ya don't?" Leonie proposed. "What if this time ya meet your match?"

Arlen frowned. "While I mentioned a possible grudge against me, I doubt Queen Nasuada or the Empire has one that would doom the entirety of Cathalorn to death. I must find out though for all our sakes. Besides, I've fought Riders, Shades, Elves, and a whole lot more; I think I can handle a few soldiers."

"But what if they use magic or bows or something and you can't kill them first?"

Arlen frowned. He had always considered that possibility and was scared of it. It could be the death of him one day and he had no argument to dissuade Leonie from think that either. All he had were the words, "If that happens, weep for me then and not before."

Leonie frowned. "Ya think that helps?"

"No, but I promise you that if no grudge is held against me, I will seek no opponents on the way home," Arlen replied. "If there are bandits, I'll warn them not to attack me by speaking my titles. If a rebellion arises, I shall steer as far from it as I can. If a swordsman thinks me no great challenge and wishes to duel me, I shall refuse granting him whatever rights that go with victory other than my freedom and my life. I shall seek no delay in returning if I can help it, but if I somehow become involved in another adventure, I'll try to let you know."

Leonie lowered her head. "So that's it then? You're just going to fly over there and, if there's no one to fight, walk all the way back?"

"Yes," he said nodding. "I promise."

Leonie sniffled and laughed, "It'll be your most boring adventure yet."

Arlen chuckled, "If I can help it."

Leonie wrapped her arms around him, to which he embraced her. He heard her say muffled through his shoulder "It'd better be" and thought the exact same thing. Hopefully the world was done with Arlen of Cathalorn.


	5. Leaving For the Last Time

Arlen had just finished breakfast with his mother and Ehren and so got up to leave. He was expected by Alaric, and he didn't want to disappoint the Rider Chief, so he would leave shortly. He had Mor'ranr at his belt and his coat on his shoulders, believing Alaric had supplies with him that he would readily share with him. As he was about to walk out the door, Ehren and then his mother said, "Good travels, Arlen." Arlen smiled and nodded as he walked out the door, hopefully not for the last time.

He marched through Cathalorn, his head held high, with his destination being the clearing where Magnora rested. As he passed through the village, many people seemed to have heard of his quest and wished him luck along the way. While some did not, he supposed that they either had not heard, did not like him, or simply had trouble voicing their well wishes—he would have betted more on the first two than the last one. It felt good to have so many people supporting him in this way, especially with how tame he planned this to be next to his other adventure—though he didn't plan that one to be so wild either.

As he went through he encountered Brynner walking through town who said, "I have heard of your trek, and I wish you the best of luck. May it be uneventful and quiet."

Arlen nodded and said "Thank you" before continuing on his way.

Later he found Detlef and Gerulf arguing about something. Curious and concerned Arlen asked, "What's going on?"

The twins turned to him and Gerulf said, "I've decided to come forward with… my gift." By his tone Arlen guessed that he was talking about his magical abilities. "I can't stay in the shadows with this forever, so it's time I decided to do something with it."

Arlen was surprised, but decided to be supportive of him. "Good for you, I think. What do you intend to do with it?"

Gerulf shrugged. "I think I'll join the… professionals." By "professionals" he probably meant the Queen's Magicians. "I want to help people with this gift, even if it's only people who the dreaded Queen deems worthy. But I'll ask the rest of my family about it, and if they're all as against it as Detlef is, I'll probably ask not to be included with their party and go the path Brynner has."

"Which you shouldn't even be choosing," Detlef objected. "I think you should just keep it a secret and avoid them altogether."

Gerulf shook his head. "There are some things that everyone should face, even if it's painful. I have to face this no matter what and be ready to accept the consequences."

Arlen slapped him on the back, his heart filling with pride. "Spoken like a true guardsman of Cathalorn," he said as Gerulf looked at him strangely. To Arlen, Gerulf's situation seemed much like his own, and they both chose the harder but better route. It was what Arlen's father Dryden always drilled into his guardsmen and his sons, and now it was in action. It was good for Arlen to see it now, being at the edge of what seemed like a possibly dangerous or possibly safe journey, and filled him confidence.

Detlef's frown didn't go away though and he said, "I hope Mom and Dad talk you out of this for your own sake."

Gerulf shrugged and then turned to Arlen. "Good luck on your trip."

"Right, good luck," Detlef added. Arlen nodded and got back to his walk out of Cathalorn.

He was to the edge of the village when he heard Leonie call his name. He turned around and there she was, running towards him. She didn't stop until she had him wrapped in her arms. Her arms were around him so tight he could barely breathe. She whispered to him, "Take care and be back soon, Arlen."

He took her in his arms and replied, "As much and as fast as I can."

They stayed there on the edge of the village in each other's arms. Arlen didn't want to let go and neither did Leonie. He didn't want to leave her or his family, but he had to one last time. It ended when Alaric called, "There will be plenty of time for that after you get back. Right now we need to move."

Leonie let him go, her eyes watering, and said, "You'd better come back, Arlen."

"I promise that only death will stop me," Arlen said, trying to comfort her. "Of course I think I'll avoid death if I can, but all the same I won't let anything else stop me."

As he turned and marched away he felt like he was leaving a part of him behind. He felt more like staying than leaving, but he felt like that last time he left too. He marched on believing—no matter how untrue it was—that the faster he left the faster he'd be back.

He climbed up the rope ladder to where Alaric sat and found him tied to his saddle. Arlen had seen Lynde with her legs bound to her saddle to prevent her from falling off, but Alaric had several ropes tied around his legs and waist, more than what was needed. Alaric just explained it away as, "A precaution. Magnora sometimes thinks it's funny to suddenly flick me off." His words made Arlen nervous and he quickly tied himself to the saddle as well.

As soon as Arlen was secure, Magnora leapt into the air and began to flap her wings. Arlen covered his ears so that the booming of her wings didn't deafen him. She rose quickly and soon was on her way.

Arlen looked back to see Cathalorn shrinking in the distance. He remembered something that had slipped his mind before; as they were well into autumn, the first snow would be soon. In Cathalorn they celebrated on the day the first snowflake of the coming winter was seen. They made a huge bonfire and sat around it eating, drinking, and dancing, much like how they celebrated the Ra'zac's death. He had found memories of the snow festival.

Chief among the memories was that of the contest of stories. Everyone would sit around in the great hall and those with the greatest stories would be chosen to tell them. Not one year did they repeat the same story, despite them having them happen in many different years. While it was usual that only people who had a great part in the story were allowed to tell it, sometimes if the person wasn't there and it was a great enough story, someone else who knew the story well would tell it. Whoever had the greatest, the most thrilling story—whether or not it was true—would be the winner of the contest, and receive great honor. He had hoped to be the one to tell the winning story this year, but it was unlikely that he would return in time for it.

That was when he made a promise to himself. He would never against go one any lengthy adventures in autumn if he could help it. Perhaps then he would win the contest, unless Lynde showed up and outdid him.

He now had a question for Alaric. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted over the wind blowing past them, "How's Lynde been?"

Alaric turned towards Arlen and then said something he couldn't understand. The wind suddenly quieted around them and Alaric asked, "What was that?"

Arlen frowned and said, "How have Lynde and Artsanna been since joining the Riders?"

Alaric shrugged. "I do not know. I don't listen for news from the Unknown Lands. I would assume it's going well though."

"Why?"

"I haven't heard any complaints from my comrades about them," Alaric explained. "If I had, then they wouldn't be doing well, though I am somewhat nervous about something." Arlen's curiosity and concern piqued as Alaric spoke the next few words hesitantly. "Karasi was called to the Unknown Lands. She almost specializes as a healer, so there had to be some great need for her to be called."

Arlen speculated why she was out there. Someone would have had to have been injured, and it was just as likely to be intentional as it was to be an accident. A student would have less sense and skill to avoid injury, so it was more likely that one was involved on some level. He had seen magicians of all kinds heal in the war down in Surda, and it made sense that Riders would also have such an ability to heal wounds of various severities, so a specialized healer would have to be great indeed. It was entirely possible that Lynde had been severely injured and could be on be brink of death as he considered it.

Alaric laid his fears to rest though as he said, "If there's a spark of life within someone, then it doesn't matter what their wounds are; Karasi can save them. I taught her as much as I knew about healing, and even she impressed me sometimes. Of course I've seen her jaw dropped recently at my healing, so it's hard to tell who's better." Arlen thought that as comforting as it was, it was also quite boring.

He looked around him and considered whether he'd ever see Lynde again. He probably would, considering her partiality to the northern reaches. She tried to defend them once, so she would probably do it again. He hoped that she did so that he'd see her again and perhaps even fight alongside each other, if the need should arise. He hoped that would never be necessary and this would be a time of peace for both him and everyone else.


	6. Flight to Alagaësia

Lynde waited impatiently as Karasi used her examination spells on Artsanna. Her chanting spell echoed through Lynde's room in the dormitory where the three of them were inside and was composed of some words that Lynde—despite all her training—did not know and was not able to guess their meaning from the few words she did know. Lynde found herself fidgeting with the end of her long, thin, white coat, which Jeneve had provided her and covered her form down to her thighs. This experience was not one she wanted to repeat for the sake of her own sanity.

Karasi's spells were supposed to be telling them whether Artsanna was going to lay an egg any time soon, but they were yet to work. As much as the healer Rider had explained to them that it was a very intricate and difficult spell, she still wanted it to be over and done so that they'd get an answer. This could be very important, especially since Lynde had somewhere to be.

Hvirag had informed Lynde that morning of a meeting that he was going to attend regarding Shruikan's supposed revenge. The remainder of the First Four—excluding Baeguirn because Fyrn'hjarta's death predated the discovery of Shruikan's remains—and Eragon and Saphira were to meet at the Dragon Rider headquarters in Alagaësia to discuss the implication that one of the Riders had been corrupted by Shruikan. The Rider's corruption undoubtedly effected the Dragon in either a small enough way to hide it from them or even secretly made their heart just as dark as the other's, but it was the Rider that Shruikan had mentioned so they would start with the Rider. Lynde was only too pleased to be part of the process.

It had been her accidental discovery of this that led to the meeting, so it was only good that she be part of it. She felt responsible for this mess in some small part and wanted to end what she had started with the final death of Shruikan; the end of the Rider War. She had learned the name when she was taught history, and now she was putting it to good use. She would end the war that should have ended eleven years ago, but Shruikan still fought with his last thoughts and a darkened Rider would reignite. She only hoped that she would have the strength to do it and they would all have the insight to find the one who had been corrupted.

She speculated as to who it could be. Surely not Kaesdir as he and Haldthin were some of the nicest people she'd ever met, despite her having fought them once. She hoped it wasn't Hvirag as he and his Dragon Ragni had trained them and many other Riders, so it would be a terrible thing for it to be revealed that he was the one who had been turned. Alaric seemed possible to her, though she had barely met him he didn't seem like the nicest person to her. Of course it couldn't be Eragon; that was simply impossible. She hoped they could find and stop the corrupted one before he did any damage if he hadn't already done it.

Lynde was snapped out her thoughts when Karasi said, "The spell is complete and now I know the secret you seek." Lynde listened intently as Karasi spoke her next few words. She patted Artsanna's stomach and said, "Soon Artsanna will lay an egg that, if all goes well, will hatch into a Dragon."

Lynde's heart sank and she went numb. While Artsanna was overwhelmed with joy, Lynde was taken aback by the news. The Dragon she'd raised from when she was no larger than a badger was now creating new life for the world to cherish. It was difficult to believe, but happy news all the same.

Artsanna could hardly sit still. _I am to be a mother, as you say, Lynde,_ she said. _This is the most wonderful day of my life._ Then Artsanna's thoughts turned to some issues of practicality. _Where should the nest be, no that is Baeguirn's job. Is it? I would not know. Should I give my egg to the Riders to be bonded? It is a great honor and opportunity, but there is great danger that goes with it. I should discuss this with Baeguirn._

 _Yes you should,_ Lynde said. She had no advice to give other than that, unfortunately. She wanted to help Artsanna, but she had no way of doing it. She didn't have any experience with having a child, let alone Dragon children. All she could say was to talk about this with Baeguirn.

Now Artsanna seemed distressed. _You no longer have a Dragon to carry you to the meeting,_ Artsanna noted. She was right. With Artsanna's current condition she would not want to travel as it would be awkward and difficult to need to stop and lay the egg and carry it with them on the way to the meeting. It could also be dangerous for the egg, especially if they encountered a storm. They could not go together, but that did not mean Lynde couldn't go.

Lynde patted Artsanna's snout and said, _I'll just ride with Hvirag on Ragni. She's a big Dragon; it shouldn't be a problem for me to go on her._

Artsanna nodded. _Good point and she'll probably be faster too without me keeping her at a slower pace._

Lynde shook her head. _Now you can't think discouraging thoughts like that. If you were fit to travel, I'd want to ride with you no matter how much longer the journey would be. In fact I think the journey will be longer without you, at least in my heart it will._

Her words pleased Artsanna and the silver Dragon nuzzled her cheek. _Thank you. I will join you when I can, but I do not believe it will be soon._

 _I hope it will be so that I can see you again and feel your mind,_ Lynde said, rubbing the Dragon's snout.

Suddenly a voice came from the door. Lynde turned around to see the door open and Ivuldr standing in the doorway. His hair had changed again to blond, which suited him much better than the green. "Hvirag wishes to get underway with the journey," Ivuldr said. "He is waiting outside with Ragni."

Lynde nodded and said, "I'll be there in a moment." Ivuldr nodded and left them alone, soon to be followed by Karasi. Now that they were left alone they could freely express themselves.

Lynde pressed her face against Artsanna's head plate, her arms hugging the Dragon's head from there, and said, _I don't want to leave you behind._

 _But you must for the sake of all,_ Artsanna noted. _Go and be well. Be strong and be courageous._

Lynde let go and said, _Be safe._

Artsanna nodded her head. _I will. Farewell and may we meet again soon._ Lynde hoped they would as she left her partner behind.

As she came outside she found Hvirag standing next to Ragni about twenty feet from the dormitory's entrance. The aquatic Dragon was calmly resting her eyes, but the tall Dwarf next to her was tapping his foot impatiently. He met eyes with Lynde and asked, "Where's Artsanna?"

"Artsanna's not coming," Lynde replied. She quickly explained the situation with Artsanna's recent condition, and Hvirag seemed to understand. "Do you mind if I ride with you and Ragni?" she asked.

"Go ahead," Hvirag said. "There's plenty of room." Suddenly a nostalgic look crossed the Elder's face. "When Ragni's first egg was laid, we were still students under Eragon's tutelage," Hvirag noted. "Fortunately they were out of mental range when it was conceived or else it would have been mighty awkward around the tower."

Curiosity struck Lynde and she asked, "Who was it with?"

Ragni opened her eyes and said, _Do you really want to know?_

"All things considered, probably not," Lynde admitted.

 _Good. Now let us take to the sky._ Ragni unfurled her wings and let Hvirag and Lynde climb onto her back. It was flatter and lower to the ground than most Dragons' she had seen, possibly because she was built more for swimming than most. Webbed feet and limbs gave her more thrust on the surface and under the water, and her wide body made it easier to float. While she did not have gills, the Dragon was suited to swimming in every other conceivable way. But today they would not swim as flying was much faster and speed was key in this instance.

Ragni prowled over to the outer wall of the Tower and climbed up it. Once at the top, she leapt off it, letting the wind catch her wings. She glided away from the trees and flapped once or twice to give her more altitude. She flew away from the Tower of the Dragon Riders and west towards Alagaësia where their quest would take place.


	7. Lord Vidar

Arlen watched the horizon, waiting for Gil'ead to appear as the wind rushed past him and Alaric atop the red-gold Dragon Magnora. Below them were farms with fields clear of their wheat and farmers most likely looking to see the Dragon above them in either fear or wonder or both. Arlen's thoughts were more on their journey though. Alaric had told him that they would reach Gil'ead on the second day of travel, so now on their second day he waited for some glimpse of the fortress city.

It was tortuous to wait for sight of Gil'ead. As much as he was hesitant in the case that the Empire wanted him dead, he wanted to get this done. The sooner he met with them the sooner he could get on with his life. After all there had to be some reason why the Empire didn't send a force to Cathalorn, and it had to be better than petty vengeance.

As they were flying Alaric began to explain some things. His voice came through clearly as he had a spell to quiet the wind around them enough so that they could talk. "The lord of Gil'ead is Lord Vidar, and he was a captain in the Rider War—the war between the Empire and the Varden. He was on the Empire's side, but once Nasuada discovered he cared more about protecting people than sides, he was given Gil'ead to protect." Arlen did not think that was particularly wise to trust a former enemy with a crucial military outpost, but he didn't know everything so he wouldn't question it aloud.

"Vidar will answer your questions truthfully," Alaric noted. "At my request he will also treat you with honors befitting of a Rider, excluding a place for your Dragon to sleep." Alaric turned back to look at him. "You don't have one of those, do you?"

Arlen laughed a little. "No I don't."

Alaric nodded. "I didn't think so." He turned forwards again and noted, "Lord Vidar can be trusted, but his son cannot. I'm glad he chose his daughter as his heir or else Gil'ead would have more trouble than it needed. While his daughter has no tactical or strategic knowledge, she's at least more trustworthy than her scheming brother."

Arlen nodded. "And you tell me this why?"

Alaric shrugged. "I thought you might need to know this so that you don't become wrapped up in something terrible."

"Like the Empire's politics?" Arlen laughed. "I won't touch the stuff."

"Good. You've had enough strife already without getting into politics."

Suddenly Arlen could see a faint gray shape on the horizon. As they came closer to it, he saw it better and realized it was the city of Gil'ead. They soon passed over the outer wall and over the wood and stone buildings below. As they flew over the large fort in the middle of the city, Arlen had arrived in Gil'ead.

They flew down and landed with a large thud in a large open area of the fort away from everything else. Soon soldiers with the purple and white standard of the Empire emblazoned on their tunics arrived to greet them. Arlen's first instinct had been to draw his sword when they came, but he suppressed it as no one was there to fight—hopefully.

After they dismounted, a man approached them. He was garbed in the same tunic as the soldiers but had a sword at his belt with a gilded hilt. He was aged some forty years and looked rather weak for a soldier with thin arms and a lean body. He had no beard on his narrow face, but his black hair was showing streaks of gray. Alaric soon named him. "Lord Vidar," Alaric said as he bowed. "It is an honor to be greeted by you now."

Lord Vidar scoffed. "I was out on my afternoon stroll when you showed. I simply wanted to know the reason why you're here directly from you."

Alaric nodded understandingly. "Alas, I will not be here long." He gestured to himself and then to Arlen. "I was only here to drop off my friend. Meet Arlen of Cathalorn."

Lord Vidar bowed his head and torso to him, which was strange for him. "Welcome, Arlen of Cathalorn, to Gil'ead."

Arlen thought it was only appropriate to bow back to the lord. "Thank you, Lord Vidar."

As Lord Vidar rose he asked, "What is the nature of your visit?"

Flustered by the bowing Arlen could only say, "I had some questions that you can answer."  
Lord Vidar nodded in acknowledgement. "Unfortunately questions are something I do not have time for. After my walk I was to attend to my duties as commander of the fort; inspections and the like. It will take up all of my time today. You will have to wait until tomorrow to get anything out of me."

Arlen didn't like this delay. It meant another day he was away from Cathalorn and another day the Empire would have to prepare for his demise if they were planning any. He would have objected if he thought it would do any good. He'd compromise for now, but if they put it off another day he might not want to stay.

Lord Vidar looked to the cloudy sky and said, "I do believe I have time for one question though, as long as you don't mind a short answer."

This was his chance. This meant he didn't need to worry about whether they intended to kill him or not. Arlen quickly composed a short answer that he only needed to answer yes or no to. "Was there any malice behind not sending troops to Cathalorn during the Ra'zac crisis?"

Lord Vidar looked shocked. It was not the sort of shock when someone was caught in a lie, but the sort where they realize that they made a mistake. "No," he said apologetically. "No, there was no malice. I… This will take much explaining and many apologies to put right. For now though you will be put up in the room reserved for guests such as Queen Nasuada or Alaric." Vidar looked to the Rider chief and said, "If you don't mind."

Alaric waved his hand. "Not at all. I am needed elsewhere. For now treat Arlen well and I will find some way to repay you upon my return."

Lord Vidar shook his head. "No, no. The people of Cathalorn have more than warranted this favor. I only hope that I can adequately answer their questions." Arlen grinned knowing that he would get some answers.

"In that case farewell, Lord Vidar," Alaric said as he bowed. He then turned to Arlen and said, "Farewell, Arlen. May you find you were looking for." Alaric climbed up Magnora's side and tied himself to the saddle. The soldiers and Lord Vidar moved some distance away from the Dragon, so Arlen decided to follow their example and get a safe distance from the wind Magnora would create as she flapped her wings. She took off with Alaric on her back and flew into the distance.

Lord Vidar's voice drew Arlen away from the sight of the red-gold Dragon and her Rider to that of a servant. "He will show you to your room. If you have any requests for anything, he will be there to take them. I do not ask you to dine with me tonight, but if it so pleases you, you may." Arlen nodded to show his understanding. "I will have time to meet with you late tomorrow morning, if it is agreeable."

"It is," Arlen said eagerly.

"Good. Now if you will excuse me, I must attend to my duties. Farewell." Then Lord Vidar left with a pair of soldiers flanking him.

Arlen looked to the servant, a young man who said, "If you'll follow me, sir, I'll take you to your room." Arlen followed the servant through the fort into a tall stone tower in the middle of the fort. He was led through several chambers and hallways until they were before a wooden door that the servant opened and gestured into.

Arlen entered the room and it was quite large. One might be able to fit one of the smaller houses from Cathalorn in it, if it was possible to get it inside. There were wooden rocking chairs, normal chairs, a large comfortable looking bed, and two great windows on either side of the bed with red curtains on them. To the side were two doors, which the servant gestured to, and said, "One's a privy and one's a washroom. I don't know which is which; I've never been in them." Arlen nodded. It reminded him of his room in Castle Borromeo in Surda, only less lavish.

"If that will be all, I'll be outside," the servant said.

Arlen looked to him and said, "Go on." The servant exited the room hastily as Arlen sat down in one of the chairs. He might as well get comfortable while he waited for answers.


	8. Tales of Glory

The morning after Arlen's arrival, he met with Lord Vidar in his study. The study was not large, and had bookcases whose contents were covered with dust and cobwebs, not to mention their musty smell. In the middle of the room was a desk with papers stacked on either end and in the middle a piece of paper that Lord Vidar was currently writing on with a long quill pen as he sat hunched over his work. After he was done writing he put his pen in an inkpot and looked up at Arlen and said, "Welcome, man of Cathalorn. Please sit down." Arlen sat down in a chair on the other side of Lord Vidar's desk and prepared to hear some answers.

Arlen was grateful for all that Lord Vidar had done for him during his stay. He had been given good food, a warm bed, little annoyances, and a chance to observe how real soldiers drilled for battle. How they drilled their soldiers wasn't too far from how they drilled the guardsmen in Cathalorn, but he saw a few ways they could improve their methods so that the guardsmen would be an even better fighting force. But as grateful as he was, he wanted what he had come all the way here for: answers.

Lord Vidar seemed happy enough to give him his answers fortunately. "You see, Arlen, I chose to withhold troops because of two men who you might know. The first is Arne. He calls for troops every time he hears of a bandit raid, no matter how successful it was. I've told him that I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of having my troops parade up there for no reason but his own fears." That seemed a somewhat valid reason considering how annoying Arne could become when he didn't get his way.

"And who is the other?" Arlen asked.

Lord Vidar pointed at Arlen and nodded. "Right, I said two. And if it wasn't for the other, I would have sent over two hundred men to secure your village. But I was assured by him that the village would be safe, and told never to send any troops up there because the guards he trained would be able to handle it."

Arlen was shocked by his choice of words. "The guards he trained? You mean…" remembering that he had never mention him before he thought to use his name rather than what he knew them as, "…Dryden?"

Lord Vidar nodded. "Yes, he assured me that his guardsmen would be able to handle anything that came their way."

Lord Vidar's explanation confused Arlen. Why would his father say that, and more importantly, why would Lord Vidar go along with it? He asked, "Why do you honor his request then?"

Lord Vidar took a deep breath and said, "You see, Arlen, during the war between the Varden and the Empire, several men came down to Gil'ead from a village called Cathalorn. I had never heard of it, and neither had anyone else, so they gave me—the idealistic young captain—these rowdy backwater men who no one knew where they had come from. Worst of them all was their apparent leader, Dryden. He'd constantly get into fights, and often win them. I wanted to throw him out, but then Ceunon was attacked and I figured that if he could do half of what he had done to every bar in Gil'ead, then the war would be won.

"When the Elves attacked Gil'ead, me and my company were sent to the front lines. I didn't know much about leading soldiers back then, only getting my rank because I was the son of a nobleman, but I managed to get them together and fight a good fight. We were all thrashed, half the company was dead, and Gil'ead was overrun with Elves. But the men of Cathalorn, working together, had rounded up more dead Elves than any company, which still weren't many.

"My company was able to retreat and we went down to Urȗ'baen to regroup with the rest of the army. During that time, Dryden helped get the men in order and eventually became a sort of unofficial lieutenant to me. We arrived at Urȗ'baen a shell of what we were, but willing to fight again for the Empire. As you know, we lost, but we did better than most.

"After the battle, everyone was taken captive. Dryden was mistaken for an officer and lumped in with all of us. Later when we were set free, we went our separate ways, but he told me that he was going to set up a village guard so that things like Elves or Urgals would have a harder time threatening them. I supported him, and after I found out I was given Gil'ead to govern, I offered him troops to add to the guard. He said that they didn't need any troops, and after what I'd seen in the war, I believed it."

Lord Vidar leaned back in his chair. "Have you ever seen a Kull?"

Arlen nodded. "I fought them and alongside one."

"Then you know how hard it is for a regular man to kill one," Lord Vidar said. "Dryden and three of his men killed one in close quarters. It was a close fight, but they managed to kill it, or him. While it didn't surprise me that it died, what surprised me was their courage. If they had the courage to face down one of the deadliest things that walks and talks almost like a man, then they had the courage to fight anything. It was a privilege to fight alongside them."

Arlen was taken aback by the story. While he'd known that his father had fought in the war and done great things, he had never known that he was so impressive to warrant such respect. He'd always downplayed his own feats in favor of glorifying his father's battles. Perhaps that would be what Arlen did; glorifying his father instead of himself so that all would know of his bravery.

Lord Vidar looked into Arlen's face and asked, "Did you know him?"

Arlen nodded. "He was my father."

Lord Vidar raised an eyebrow. "Your father? Well that makes sense considering what I've heard about you, Shadeslayer."

Arlen smiled. "If my father were the one to fight such battles in his prime, I wonder how he would have fared." Arlen shook his head. "It doesn't matter. My blood is his blood, and my victory is his victory."

Lord Vidar nodded. After a long pause he asked, "So judging by your presence, I take it that I was wrong in judging his request sound?"

Arlen nodded. "More than once we've been outmatched. While we're good against fighting bandits, Urgals gave us a lot of trouble and we were lucky in more ways than one during the Ra'zac crisis."

Lord Vidar nodded. "I'll remember to send forces as long as Dryden approves of it."

Arlen was surprised at his ignorance. "He's dead."

Lord Vidar froze for a second before saying, "Oh. I didn't hear that." Arlen frowned. "Well I suppose he died in his sleep considering his prowess on the battlefield."

"An Urgal killed him."

"Oh." Lord Vidar searched for words, which Arlen found a little amusing. "Well at least he died defending his village," he said.

"That he did," Arlen said as he nodded. He died perhaps not as he would have liked it but doing what was most important to him: defending his home and his family, as Arlen and Ehren had done since his death. Hopefully he would approve.

Lord Vidar drew himself up and asked, "So does that answer your questions?"

"Yes it does," Arlen said. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," Lord Vidar replied. "If you had not brought this to my attention, I would not have known that I had overestimated the men of Cathalorn, not to say they didn't deserve overestimating. You are proof of how dangerous they can become."

"And on the other hand, they can be spineless, gutless cowards who do nothing but make trouble where there is none." He was specifically thinking of one man named Emmerich as he said that. "I wouldn't say we're all warriors worth legends, but I'd say we're worth remembering when you need a few good men."

Lord Vidar nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Now is there anything else you'd like to during your stay?"

Arlen searched his memories and found nothing. He was about to say no when he remembered something that he hadn't even set out with the intention of doing. He forgot a man who'd both helped Arlen and paid the price for that help. He had forgotten Berke. "I'd like to track down someone if that's alright."

Lord Vidar nodded asking, "Who is it?"

"A man named Berke. Last I heard of him he was a clerk working for the Queen's Magicians in Gil'ead."  
Lord Vidar looked down, seemingly trying to remember something. After a little while he said, "I don't think I remember a man like that, nor would I. I'd try the Magicians' Tower; they've got to have someone who remembers him if not the man himself. You may go whenever you wish and if they do not cooperate with you, just mention my name and they'll be much more helpful afterwards."

Arlen nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now I'd like to get a little more work done before lunch if you don't mind." Arlen left him alone to work, walking out of the study and into the hallway outside.

He decided that, since it probably wouldn't be too much trouble or delay, to look for Berke and make sure he was alright. It didn't seem like too much of a problem to do and Berke had helped him greatly on his journey to reunite with Lynde and Rose so long ago. The least he could do was go back to find him, though he hoped that this wouldn't turn into something more complicated. If this did turn out to send him on some adventure or another, he would never forgive himself or Berke.


	9. The Garrison of Edoc'sil

It was late afternoon by the time Lynde, Hvirag, and Ragni arrived at the Rider outpost. It was then that she saw where it was. Below was Palancar Valley with Carvahall and Therinsford, but above was a mountain so steep it looked impossible to climb. On top of it was a tall tower with the width and look of a fortress. Hvirag pointed to the fortress and named it. "Here we are; Edoc'sil, the center of the Dragon Riders in Alagaësia."

She had been told of this place that morning, but she felt like she had heard the name before and soon realized why. She had been told of Edoc'sil in her history lessons, but knew that it sometimes had a different name: Ristvak'baen, the place where Vrael fell to Gablatorix. This place had been rebuilt atop Utgard Mountain for the Rider's purposes. It worked once and it would work again as long as there were no Dragons for their enemies to mount.

As Ragni flew in to land at the top of the tower they found Kaesdir and Haldthin waiting for them. They had gone back to Alagaësia after Shruikan's defeat, and now were present to greet them now. Ragni's talons gripped the side of the tower in places where there were places for them to go and she climbed onto the tower. Lynde and Hvirag dismounted soon after that.

Kaesdir approached them and bowed. "Welcome, friends, to Ristvak'baen."

Hvirag scoffed. "You know we prefer to call it Edoc'sil, Kaesdir."

"Yes, well, I lived through those times. To me it is and always will be Ristvak'baen," Kaesdir answered gravely. He turned to Lynde and said, "You travel with a Dragon that is not yours. Where is Artsanna?"  
Lynde gestured behind her and said, "Artsanna back in the Unknown Lands with an egg on the way."

Kaesdir was surprised at that. "Really?" Lynde nodded to which Kaesdir crowed with joy. "Congratulations. Who is the father, I mean sire?"

"Baeguirn, I believe."

Kaesdir laughed. "I thought this might happen. He goes with the first dam he sees once he has his freedom."

"I thought it could be because she killed Trianna," Hvirag stated gruffly.

Kaesdir nodded. "That to."

Trying to get their attention on the matter at hand, Lynde said, "So are we ready to begin?"

Kaesdir shook his head and sighed. "No. Eragon and Saphira were yet to arrive, so Alaric and Magnora went after them."

Hvirag frowned. "Was it because of Queen Nasuada and Murtagh?"

Kaesdir shrugged. "Her time is up. I thought Eragon would try something, but I didn't think he would try to fight Murtagh and Thorn just with himself and Saphira."

Hvirag shook his head. "If I were him, I'd take at least two other Elder pairs with me, you and Alaric among them."

"Don't sell yourself short, Hvirag," Kaesdir warned.

Hvirag crossed his arms. "Is that a height joke?"

Kaesdir chuckled. "I didn't intend it to be, but…"

Hvirag laughed while Lynde was just getting impatient. "We should bring them back," she said.

The Elder Riders turned to Lynde, and Kaesdir said, "That is what Alaric and Magnora are doing. The simple fact is that until they have returned, all we can do is wait."

Lynde frowned. "I'm not built to wait."

Kaesdir shook his head. "If you're going to be doing anything, you must learn to wait, Lynde." She had a hard time accepting that. She wanted to get this done now, not wait and let her fears of who the Corrupted One was grow. She felt like finding a Dragon and riding after the Elders, but she knew that no part of that would work even remotely. And she supposed that if herself and Hvirag hadn't arrived now, then Eragon and Alaric might have had to wait for them, and they would have done it with just as much impatience—maybe a little less considering they were wise Elders. She finally decided that she would wait, but only this once.

She looked to the floor and said, "Fine. But I'd like to have something to do in the meantime."

Kaesdir put his hand on her shoulder—the one she had her sword Iet'baen over, carrying the sheath slung over her shoulder so that she could take it off and draw it at a moment's notice—and the Elf said gladly, "Follow me. I will introduce you to the other Riders here."

She followed him down a flight of stairs in the stone floor and found this section of the tower was open on the inside with space enough for Dragons to fly in—if briefly. Ragni herself was climbing in through one of the massive arches that were in the side of the tower, as was Haldthin from another angle. The stairs they were climbing spiraled around the wall, and when they got to the arches a wall was built to close it, providing stability and safety for those within. To her left were simple metal handrails to make it harder to fall the massive distance down. At the bottom were a group of Riders with their Dragons, which were of various colors.

Kaesdir introduced the Riders as Lynde got off the stairs. First he gestured to a familiar looking Elf woman mediating in the shadow of a white Dragon not any larger than Artsanna. "That is Volyeth—you've met her before—and her Dragon Glideith." He pointed to another pair, a young looking Dwarf woman braiding her red hair and a Dragon that was of many different colors that seemed to shift as it danced around looking at Lynde. "The Dragon is Mavas of the Many Colored Scales, who is one of the few Dragons ever in existence to have them. The young Dwarf is Nardra of Dûrgrimst Fanghur, one who is less of a mystery to us because she will constantly say everything if given the chance."

The next Dragon Riders Kaesdir pointed to were locked in combat. One looked like Valvesz the Urgal, but he wielded a sword that was not purple but a greenish blue. The other was a Surdan Human man with a short beard and hair that almost met his shoulders wielding a purple blade. Behind them two Dragons watched, one looked like Valvesz's purple Dragon and the other was the same scorched orange as the Urgal's sword and had a sleek head plate and short spikes, despite it being larger than Artsanna—if only barely. The Riders' duel was intense and the clashing of their swords rang through the chamber.

Kaesdir frowned as he named them. "The Urgal you know as Valvesz, and his Dragon who we call Flamefang so that we don't offend him. In the Urgal language fang is commonly mispronounced by outsiders as something I don't believe I wish to translate. The Human is Risteárd, for some reason like fighting Valvesz in new and different ways each time. This time it seems they switched their swords."  
Lynde nodded; that explained the confusion. "Who is the Dragon?" she asked

"She is Larelil, a Dragon who hatched the spring before Artsanna did."

As Kaesdir finished speaking, Risteárd charged Valvesz, lunging at him. Valvesz caught his arm though and twisted it backwards with an audible snap. Lynde was about to run to them to try and heal Risteárd's arm, but Kaesdir put his arm in front of her an shook his head. She soon saw why.

Risteárd kicked Valvesz in the knee and the Urgal howled. Risteárd then used his arm—the one that had been previously broken—to swing the purple sword into Valvesz's side, delivering the blow that ended the duel. He raised his sword in victory and said, "Wiol du kona!"

To which the red haired Dwarf Nardra shouted, "And what if we didn't want that?"

Risteárd bowed and said, "Eka baen, Nardra."

"Your speech is improving, Risteárd," Volyeth called without opening her eyes. "Soon you might actually say something intelligible." Lynde found a friendly jab a little strange for an Elf to say.

Risteárd smiled and said, "Elrun ono, Volyeth Svit-kona."

Volyeth laughed. "Stop. You have too high an opinion of me, Risteárd."

"Yes, please stop," Valvesz said. "You're making me sick."

"Oei, werg," Nardra said. Lynde had absolutely no clue what the Dwarf meant by that.

Kaesdir cleared his throat and all the Riders and Dragons looked to him and Lynde. "I would like to introduce you to a new Rider. Her Dragon will be joining us shortly, but for now meet Lynde."

Volyeth pointed to Lynde and said, "That's her. That's the girl you told me I was too cowardly to fight, Nardra."

Nardra eyed her and said, "She doesn't look so tough."

"She has a sword longer than you are tall," Risteárd pointed out, the first words he had said in the Human language Lynde had heard him say.

"So what?" Nardra asked.

Lynde smiled and Valvesz looked her over after he got up from the floor. "You look different last we fought," he said.

"Yes, well, there's a reason for that," Lynde began to explain.

Valvesz stopped her though. "I knew I was remembering her face right. I knew it!"

"Hooray, you knew it," Nardra said with a hint that she wasn't being entirely honest with her congratulations. "Now let's get to actually important things like missions."

Kaesdir shook his head. "At present there are no missions for you four. You'll just have to wait for new ones."

While Nardra cried in frustration, Risteárd said, "Well at least we have more time for sparring."

Valvesz snorted. "I'll only spar if you get rid of your healing spell, Draji! It makes it impossible for me to finish you off."

"Too bad, because it's the only way I'll spar with you after the time you broke my jaw," Risteárd retorted.

"It was a little break."

"It still hurts!"

Lynde smiled at their bickering. Even Riders were still Human—or Urgal or whatever they were. She might like these Riders, and she had plenty of time to get to know them. But she decided against it and instead would prepare for battling whichever Elder was discovered to be the Corrupted One.


	10. Discovery?

Lynde stood atop the windy tower of Edoc'sil with the Elders Hvirag, Ragni, Kaesdir, and Haldthin as they awaited Eragon and Alaric's arrival. Kaesdir had said that they would be back today, so here she waited for their return. It was in the early afternoon when she finally caught sight of their Dragons.

As the two neared, Lynde felt the brush of a Dragon's mind against her own. For a moment she thought it was Artsanna, but she soon realized that it was Ragni. Disappointed Lynde asked, _What is it, Ragni?_

Ragni's tone was solemn as she answered. _There is something you must know before the meeting begins. It is on the subject of the Eldunarí._

Lynde had heard that word before in the prison where Shruikan had been kept. The warden Cuaroc said something about them and then Artsanna described it as some sort of organ or something. She didn't know what Ragni meant by this so she asked politely, _What about it?_

 _You see, Lynde, the Eldunarí is something vital to a Dragon's life and soul. It is a gem inside their chest that all Dragons are hatched with and grow as they become older._ What Ragni described next was almost horrifying. _A Dragon keeps their mind and soul in their Eldunarí, and the Dragon can remove it from themselves if they so choose, and in that way keep a mental link and flow of energy to whoever has the Eldunarí._

Lynde was disturbed by this thought. The idea that a gem held a person's soul and the power one had over the Dragon if they had their Eldunarí was something that made her skin crawl. She couldn't think of any way it could be worse for the Dragon who had removed their Eldunarí.

Then Ragni said, _If the Eldunarí is destroyed, the Dragon dies, but if the body is killed, then the Dragon will live on inside the Eldunarí._ That was even worse; the idea that a small gem held their fate and to be trapped within a gem and not have any freedom or ability to command oneself. How the Dragons were cursed with this she did not know, and if there were any advantages to this, she did not see them even if others did.

 _You have encountered Eldunarí before, Lynde,_ Ragni said. _In the prison, the wardens were Dragons from before the Fall who lived on in their Eldunarya. Shruikan lived on in his Eldunarí until you destroyed it. There is also a large cache of them under the Tower of the Dragon Riders._

 _Why do you mention this?_ Lynde asked, a little queasy from this talk.

 _Because we may mention Eldunarya during this, and we would like you to be prepared for it,_ Ragni explained. _It is a matter of Dragons and it is best if a Dragon who was close to you explained it. I do wish Artsanna was here so that I could explain it to her as well, but that must wait until another time._

As Ragni finished, Saphira and Magnora landed on the tower. Saphira towered over all other Dragons partially because of her age and partially because most other Dragons bowed reverently to her as she stood proudly over them. Eragon and Alaric dismounted and looked to the other Elders. Kaesdir and Hvirag bowed so Lynde bowed as well. "Welcome, Alaric," Kaesdir said. "And welcome, Eragon, Elder among Elders."

As they rose Lynde noticed Eragon's gaze upon her. She had less fear of him than before, mostly because she was a full-fledged Rider now, but she was still nervous around him. He was rather handsome, and though she knew that it would be impossible for any sort of romance, she wanted to make sure her actions were not mistaken for having romantic intention behind them. At the same time he did not looked pleased as he saw her. "What is she doing here?" he asked.

"She insisted on being a part of this," Hvirag explained respectfully. "She was the one to slay Shruikan and discover the foul one's plot. I thought it was only fitting that she be present."

Eragon looked into her eyes and asked, "Do you know of the Eldunarí?"

Lynde was too nervous to answer so Hvirag answered for her. "Yes, Eragon, she does. Ragni made sure of that."

Eragon nodded. "Then let us begin the meeting below as long as there are no other surprises."

As they went down the stairs into the common area there were no other Dragon Riders to be seen. The other Riders and Dragons had been told to leave Edoc'sil for the time being so that there could be no eavesdroppers on this important meeting. The Elders stood in two circles with the Dragons forming a circle behind the Riders so everyone could see. Lynde stood next to Hvirag and waited for someone to start talking.

Kaesdir was first. "As you all know, fellow Elders, Shruikan was imprisoned in the Unknown Lands after the discovery of his Eldunarí underneath the citadel of Ilirea. As you also know he was killed by Lynde with the aid of Artsanna after he began to wipe the minds of his wardens. He was a threat and had to be destroyed, but before his death he revealed that he had corrupted the mind of one of the Elder Riders and set them on their way to reap havoc in Alagaësia. While there is no telling what secret damage he has wrought, it should be clear to all that I do not blame you as you may not even be aware of the corruption."

"What do you mean by that?" Alaric asked hostilely. "You're just as likely a suspect as anyone else."

"Actually no," Kaesdir corrected gravely. "Once we had returned to the Tower of the Dragon Riders, Hvirag and I went to the vault underneath the Tower and were tested by the Eldunarya who searched for any signs of corruption. Unless the corruption is so subtle that the Eldunarya could not detect it, neither of us are Shruikan's pawns. This means it is either you, Alaric, or Eragon."

Eragon drew his blue sword and pointed it towards Alaric. Hvirag, Kaesdir, and Alaric all drew their swords and pointed them at Eragon in response to this. Lynde also took her sheath off her shoulder and drew Iet'baen, hoping she wouldn't need to use it. Eragon looked at them with a betrayed look in his eyes. "Have you all gone mad? It's Alaric, you know it is!"

"We don't know that yet," Hvirag said shaking his beard. "Put down your blade, Eragon." Eragon frowned. "And the same to you, Alaric. We don't know who the Corrupted One is, so we can't be too cautious."

After a pause both of the men dropped their swords. Alaric said, "It's okay; I don't need Solus to take any of you."

Around this time Lynde noticed two things. One was a belt around Alaric's body that had something attached to it that she couldn't see anything but a blurry outline of, betraying the fact that it was hidden by a spell but not betraying what it was. The other thing was a shimmering of air behind Eragon that suggested another invisibility spell, but a far better one. She had no way of knowing for sure what they were hiding, but she guessed that they were weapons.

Hvirag and Kaesdir lowered their swords, but did not sheath them. "Good," Kaesdir said. "Now if you'll each submit to our test, we will be able to determine who is to be cured."

"What test?" Alaric asked suspiciously.

"Haldthind, Hvirag, Ragni, and I will probe your minds individually," Kaesdir explained. "We shall search for the signs of corruption that the Eldunarya told us to look for and then report our findings. I hope that is acceptable to both of you."

Alaric blanched. Even his red burn scars looked pale. Lynde saw this and realized that he had to be the Corrupted One. Only the Corrupted One would react so poorly to this. He had to be it.

As Kaesdir began to speak again, Eragon stomped on the tip of his sword, flinging it into the air, and he grabbed it. He then swung his sword around so fast it made a strange sound in the air and the Elders stepped back. He then turned and ran towards Saphira.

"He's the one," Alaric shouted.

"I won't disagree with you there," Hvirag replied.

Lynde ran after Eragon, shaking off her surprise and readying her mind for battle. Eragon jumped onto the back of Saphira and the sapphire Dragon jumped onto the wall and crawled through the window. Ragni went after them, snapping her fangs, aiming for the other Dragon's leg to sink her teeth into. Saphira got away though and flew away east.

"Come on," Alaric shouted. "He's getting away."

"No," Kaesdir said. "You'll stay here with us." A look of disappointed and confusion crossed Alaric's face. The Elf looked to Hvirag. "Hvirag, you and Ragni take Lynde and go after them. I sent the other Riders out to be ready in the event the Corrupted One ran away. They'll slow him down enough for you to catch up."

Hvirag nodded and motioned for Lynde to follow him up the stairs, who she obeyed. As they ran up, Lynde asked, "Why are they staying behind?"

"Because Alaric's not above suspicion yet," Hvirag answered. "We want to wait until after the test to make any accusations." That seemed unnecessary as it was clear who the Corrupted One was now. She hadn't seen it; she'd assumed Alaric was the one, and now she discovered that she was wrong. Eragon was the Corrupted One, and now Lynde would have to fight him to finish this.

It seemed impossible though. This man had defeated Murtagh the Traitor, killed Galbatorix, and slayed the Shade Durza. Eragon was too powerful for any two of the Elders to face, even with four other pairs. It seemed impossible to defeat a legend like Eragon, but they would have to try for the sake of Alagaësia.


	11. Eleven Against Two

The sun was setting by the time Lynde, Hvirag, and Ragni caught up with Eragon and Saphira. The two of them were engaged in battle with those who had garrisoned Edoc'sil, all eight of them. It didn't look like they were doing well as Saphira used her tail to bash the purple Dragon Flamefang, sending him tumbling through the sky out of control. But three more would join the fight now, and two of them were Elders so it could be that the fight would turn in their favor.

Lynde crouched on Ragni with Hvirag ready to cut the ropes that bound her to the Dragon at a moment's noticed. They had planned this out beforehand and now would try it. As Ragni passed by Saphira, Lynde shouted "Now!" signaling Hvirag to cut the ropes with his sword. When she felt the tightness of ropes grow slack around her, she jumped off Ragni and onto Saphira.

She landed with a crouch and then stood up and ran along the Dragon's back to Eragon. Before she got there though, Saphira jerked and sent Lynde flying off her back. She fell off, tumbling down towards the dark abyss of shadows that was the ground.

For a moment she thought that this would be it. She would die this way, trying to fight Eragon. But she was quickly proved wrong as her fall slowed and she drifted down onto Volyeth's white Dragon Glideith. She looked at the Elf and she said quickly, "I couldn't let a sister Rider fall, no matter what animosity we held in the past." Lynde smiled and thanked her.

After their conversation ended, Glideith and the Dragon of the Many Colored Scales Mavas attacked Saphira. The sapphire Dragon swatted at them, beating them where she could, but the younger Dragons were smaller targets even if they weren't as strong as the Elder. While she was occupied, Ragni attacked, diving onto Saphira's back and everyone began to fall.

Lynde found herself falling down at a much slower speed than the others and she was lifted upwards. Volyeth was tied to her Dragon though and grabbed onto her with Elven speed and strength. She spoke a spell and Lynde dropped back onto Glideith. She didn't know why but she could not walk as she would on the ground as the Dragons tumbled towards the grounds. She looked to Volyeth and she said, "I used a spell to temporarily remove the ground's pull and the air's lift specifically for you. You're now drawn to the Dragons the same way you would the ground. It's very tiring even for an Elf and a Dragon so use it well and use it quickly."

Lynde nodded and ran onto Saphira's back. As the Dragon spun around, Lynde remained the same and charged Eragon. While Saphira took notice of her, she could do nothing to get her off this time, even upside down. Eragon turned towards her, sword drawn, and readied for a fight.

Lynde swung Iet'baen down on Eragon, who parried as easily as one could do while upside down. He began to speak a spell, but Lynde cut him off saying, "Eka ach néiat atra ono" or roughly "I do not let you". It was enough to interrupt his spell for a moment, and Lynde used that to strike again, jumping into the air and bringing the full might of her weight and the weight of her sword onto Eragon. Their blades rang as they clashed, but while Lynde felt tired Eragon pushed her sword away with the greatest of ease. She was outmatched and both of them knew it.

Then Lynde looked up, which was actually towards the ground, and saw it coming nearer faster than she would like. She ran away from Eragon, who began to speak another spell, this one with some words she didn't understand in the slightest and one that she knew he had said but could not remember how it sounded. Lynde made it out from between Saphira and the ground just in time as they crashed.

As Lynde was slammed into the ground she thought she felt some magic keep her from feeling the full brunt of it. Perhaps that was the spell that Eragon had been speaking. It didn't matter as now the fight began again.

The scorched-orange Dragon Larelil came down breathing fire of the same color as her scales upon Saphira, to which the blue Dragon leapt into the air and brought her down with her claws and a loud thud. Ragni jumped up and tried to tackle Saphira, but the sapphire Dragon pushed back against the aquatic Dragon so strongly that she was sent to the ground. But while the Dragons fought, the Riders dismounted.

Lynde joined the others—the Dwarves Hvirag and Nardra, and the Urgal Valvesz who had just arrived—in circling Eragon who had jumped off of Saphira. She knew that Volyeth and Glideith were probably too tired to fight after what they did for Lynde and Risteárd was up with Larelil so the four of them were all who would fight—and perhaps all they needed. They closed in on Eragon who looked at them with what looked like pity. "You are foolish to think you only need one Elder to defeat me," Eragon said.

"Well I'd hate to be wrong about who the Corrupted one is," Hvirag said. "They might try to kill the other instead of taking them alive. You sure seemed like him though."

"You cannot search my mind!" Eragon shouted as he raised his sword. "I have secrets that you must not know and duties you cannot know of."

"I know at least that you know the name of the Ancient Language," Hvirag said. Lynde looked at her former mentor surprised. Rose had told her what power the name of the Ancient Language held, and also that no one knew it except perhaps one or two people. She didn't know Eragon was one of them, and now that she did she feared what was to come.

Eragon shook his head. "There is other knowledge that cannot yet be shared. You cannot search my mind. Search Alaric's; that should tell you everything."

"But what if Shruikan was lying and none of us have been corrupted?" Hvirag proposed. The idea startled Lynde. "If we find Alaric to be uncorrupted then assume you were even if you weren't…"

"It does not matter!" Eragon said defensively. "You will not enter my mind!"

Hvirag sighed. "Then you leave me no choice." He looked to Lynde and the others and said, "Now we fight."

"No you don't," Eragon said shaking his head. He then spoke a spell and Lynde felt the wards that she had placed around herself disappear. She had no way of defending herself from magic now.

Hvirag yelled, charging Eragon. Lynde went with him, hoping he had a plan. Whatever the plan, Eragon spoke a word she didn't catch over the roaring of the Dragons and she felt something snap in her right leg. Fiery pain erupted in her leg and she collapsed as she found herself screaming. Beside her Hvirag fell as well, just as hurt. "I don't want to kill you," Eragon stated coolly. "Do not force my hand."

Lynde looked at Eragon with contempt. It was an insult to her that he did not face her sword to sword but instead relied on magic. To battle her in that way declared his superiority without any contest. Add to that the fact that he did not even kill her but wound her in a way she couldn't even see, and she wished to stand for only a moment to cut off his head.

Eragon stared at them and said, "Run if you wish. Stay if you believe that your lives aren't worth anything."

Hvirag used his sword as a crutch as he rose and said, "Run. We've lost this round."

As Nardra took Hvirag over her shoulder, Valvesz reached down to Lynde to help her up, but she still focused on Eragon. "Go," she whispered, "but leave me. I'm going to try one last time."

"You're a fool," Valvesz uttered softly. "While I don't want to give up without a fight either, even a Kull would run from odds such as these."

Lynde shook her head as the Dragons disengaged from their fight with Saphira and headed towards where their Riders were regrouping. "Maybe I am a fool, but I won't give up this fight."

Valvesz scoffed. "Fine. Just make sure you die with honor." Lynde's face hardened as Valvesz ran to the others. There was no honorable death when magic was involved.

Once she heard the Dragons take off she rose, using Iet'baen to make up for her leg. She stared at Eragon, trying to be as intimidating as possible. "You shall not defeat me so easily!" she said. "I have battled three Shades, a sorceress, and the black Dragon Shruikan himself."

"And if I'm not mistaken, you didn't win most of those did you?" Eragon pointed out much to Lynde's anger.

"Even if I did, I will fight you," Lynde declared. "Even with the mistakes I've made in the past, I choose to fight you. You won't be rid of me easily!"

"Oh really?" Eragon said. Lynde sneered and raised her sword. She lunged forward, using her left leg to propel her towards Eragon. Before she even made it though she heard him say "Slytha" and then she fell to the ground and into darkness.


	12. Lynde's Decision

The sun was rising as Lynde opened her eyes. Her mind was still blurry so she didn't question the feeling of scales behind her back, the blanket over her, or her surroundings, assuming it was Artsanna and they were on the road again. As she turned to go back to sleep she caught sight of a dark haired Elf woman sitting ten feet from her with blankets wrapped around her and holding a steaming cup of tea. While she thought the Elf strange, the thing that shocked her fully awake was that the Dragon they were next to had white scales and not silver. Her eyes widened as she sat up and looked around.

As she saw the massive blue Dragon glistening in the sunrise she remembered what happened last night. She remembered the battle and who they were fighting. She remembered Volyeth and Glideith tiring. She remembered the spell that knocked her out and the one who cast it. She remembered their enemy.

She stood up suddenly, shedding her blanket as she did, and fell back down as her head became dizzy. To her surprise the pain in her leg was gone. She tried looking for her sword, but didn't see it anywhere. The only thing she did see was a campfire with a pot over it, Saphira, Glideith, Volyeth, and her tea.

She wondered about the tea and asked, "Where did you get that?"

After she finished a sip the Elf replied, "Eragon gave it to me."

"Eragon?" Lynde looked around again but didn't find him. "Where is he?"

"He left. He said not to question it," Volyeth answered.

 _I think that means he's relieving himself,_ a deep female voice said, who Lynde assumed was Glideith by the way her head moved towards them.

Volyeth looked away from Lynde and towards Glideith. "I didn't want to disgust her with the details."  
Glidieth looked away and laid down. _Alright. I was just trying to be informative._

Lynde smiled at them, but remembering their situation, her smile soon faded. "We should go before Eragon gets back," Lynde said urgently. Volyeth shook her head silently. "Why?"

"Because I'm already back," said a voice that started Lynde. She looked to the voice and saw the Elf-like man standing a few yards away, his arms to his sides passively. She inched away from him slightly and he frowned. "You have nothing to fear from me unless you try something like that again. I didn't appreciate it then and I won't now."

He went over to the campfire and filled a cup full of tea from the pot. He then carried the cup to Lynde who looked suspiciously at it and him and said, "I won't drink that."

Eragon shrugged. "Too bad. It's good tea." He then took a sip and said, "You really don't have anything to fear from me. I'm not the Corrupted One."

"Then why did you run?" Lynde asked.

Eragon sighed. "I made a mistake in running, I admit that, but at the time I was tired and acted irrationally. While I still cannot take the test they ask of me, it should be clear that I am not the Corrupted One."

"Why?" Lynde probed.

Eragon shook his head saying, "If I was the Corrupted One, would I have let any of you live?" It was a good point, but not the best. The Shade Council had captured her alive if only to fulfil their own dark purposes. He would have to do more than that to gain Lynde's trust.

"You fought well last night," Eragon said sipping his tea. "All three of you are excellent warriors. Volyeth, your magic was impressive; I have only seen that spell done once or twice elsewhere. Glideith, you gave Saphira a hard time, and she still hasn't forgiven you. And you, Lynde, was perhaps too fearless, but sometimes sheer stubbornness works."

While Volyeth and Glideith were pleased with his words, it took a moment for Lynde to comprehend this. He was complimenting the ones who were his opponents just last night? He must have been mad or something to treat them like they had been on his side the whole time. She had to confront him. "Why do you say such things when we were fighting you?" she asked.

"Because you believed you were fighting the Corrupted One and his Dragon," Eragon said before taking a sip. He swallowed and continued. "Your commitment is commendable, and you skill should come in handy when we face the real Corrupted One: Alaric."

Lynde was not willing to be played a fool so she asked, "What makes you so sure he's the Corrupted One?"

"It's simple," he said. "He was the one who was so nervous while I stood by in silence. He feared the test, and he did not draw his sword when Kaesdir revealed that it had to be one of us, appearing compliant to avoid suspicion."

Lynde frowned. "One might say you drew your sword to throw suspicion off yourself."

"Good point." Eragon took a few steps, keeping his distance from her but making it so that she didn't have to turn her head as far to look between him and Volyeth, and stopped asking, "What can I say that will convince you that I am not the Corrupted One?"

Lynde shook her head. "I don't know, but maybe submitting to their test might help?"

Eragon frowned deeply. "I have said it once and I will say it until you all finally learn it: I cannot be tested because of what I know. There are things that I have seen, heard, experienced, and said that no one can know and no one can forget, not to mention they may learn my True Name in the process, and I cannot allow that. Only those closest to me may know it, and they do not qualify."

"Well you're going to have to do something to convince me," Lynde said.

Eragon shook his head and looked to the west towards Edoc'sil and said, "The Elders will come again for me soon. Alaric may be among them, and if he is the Corrupted One, he will not hesitate to kill me."

"And if he passes their test?" Lynde asked.

Eragon shook his head. "There would need to be many minds behind his test for them to feel safe. Alaric is the only person I have ever met who has defeated a well adjuster Dragon Rider pair in mental combat without his Dragon. He hates his Dragon more than anything, and has become incredibly powerful without her. At least, that's what they lead people to believe; I have seen them share tender moments. I think it may be an act to keep people from realizing that he has been corrupted and he has spread that corruption to his Dragon, as he would to the other Elders, given the chance."

None of that made sense to Lynde. All she knew was that Alaric didn't get along with Magnora and Eragon said he was good in mental combat. Of course, if he was so good, she wondered how Shruikan could have corrupted him. Then again, Shruikan had an incredibly powerful mind and almost defeated Lynde and Artsanna, only being kept at bay when Baeguirn came to their defense. Alaric would need to be strong indeed to resist Shruikan's will alone, but powerful enough to defeat four Elders. She was unsure how true Eragon's speculations were, but it sounded farfetched.

Seemingly sensing her disbelief, Eragon said, "If you wish to rejoin them, then that is perfectly fine with me. I will go to Gil'ead and try to rally the Dragon Riders in case Alaric has convinced the other Elders that he is not the Corrupted One or has corrupted them himself." He looked to Volyeth. "Do you wish to leave me as well?"

"No," Volyeth said, shaking her head. "Glideith and I wish to fight beside you if need be, and defend you from all enemies. In truth I hoped it was anyone but you who was corrupted."

Eragon smiled. "Thank you, Volyeth, for your kind words."

Then Lynde got an idea. It was a simple idea, but it would confirm what he said and brush away any doubts she had. She looked him in the eye and said, "Say in the Ancient Language you are not the Corrupted One and I shall follow you to Gil'ead."

"That's simple enough," Eragon said gladly. After a moment he declared, "Eka eddyr neo älfr iknol er äfikonoka." He had done it. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he had just disproven any possibility that he was the Corrupted One. One could not lie in the Ancient Language, as often Lynde was reminded by her teachers. He looked at her expectantly and asked, "Well is that enough?"

Lynde stood and said, "Yes, that's enough; I believe you now. If you'll accept me, I'll go along with you to Gil'ead or wherever you need me to go."

Eragon smiled as he nodded. "Good. Now let us ride! You may ride with me, Lynde, as Artsanna is not here." Soon enough what little of their camp was packed up or extinguished and they were ready to ride.

As Lynde climbed onto Saphira's back she considered something. Kaesdir once said during their trip to Shruikan's prison as idle conversation that it was possible to deceive in the Ancient Language. He did not elaborate on this except that if what you said was the truth from your point of view, then you were not lying enough for the language to stop you. It would certainly be so if one did not know what they were saying was false, which went along with Hvirag's suggestion that Eragon did not know he was the Corrupted one. But such speculation was nonsense and she discarded it.

It was impossible for Eragon to be the Corrupted One. He had said it and that was enough for Lynde. How someone could be unaware they were evil or corrupted was beyond her as whoever was so blind could not be Eragon. Eragon seemed smart enough to know when he was doing something wrong. Such thinking would only erode the truth she knew; Eragon was not the Corrupted One.

As Saphira took off with Glideith following behind, Lynde could not help but feel that maybe she had made a mistake. She did not know what mistake it could be, but she felt as if she had made one.


	13. Rallying the Riders

Lynde rode atop Saphira with Eragon through the clouds. Not far behind them were Volyeth and Glideith, barely keeping up. They had to fly slowly so as not to leave the two behind, but Glideith flew as fast as she was able to without tiring herself out. Even with the delay, they were making good time to Gil'ead.

Eragon had contacted several Riders with a small mirror he had, telling them to rally at Gil'ead. He had explained to Lynde that this was so that they could defeat Alaric and the other Elders, or at least make them reconsider their position. Lynde hoped for the latter as she did not want most of the Elders to get hurt, apart from Alaric. He was the Corrupted One, and she did not care if he was hurt or not as long as they stopped him from doing whatever his dark task was. If they needed to unite all the Dragon Riders in Alagaësia to stop Alaric, then it would be done.

They caught sight of Gil'ead by midday, which recalled some bad memories for Lynde. The last time she was here, she and Rose were bound and chained. While the sight was somewhat troubling to her, she put that trouble aside. There was no reason to fear Gil'ead this time; no reason she could think of anyway.

They landed at the fort in the middle of Gil'ead, and dismounted. There they were met by an older, clean shaven man who Eragon called Lord Vidar. "Lord Vidar, it is an honor," he said as he bowed to the man.

"The honor is mine," Lord Vidar said as he bowed back. As he rose he asked, "What brings you to Gil'ead?"

Eragon had a stern look on his face as he spoke. "Alaric and the other Elders of the Dragon Riders have turned against me." That news brought a disturbed expression to Lord Vidar's face, which Lynde could understand. She could hardly believe either that the Elders had turned, but it was a fact that she had to live with. "With your permission, I would like to use Gil'ead as a base of operations while I combat the treacherous Riders."

"Of course," Lord Vidar said, still surprised with the news and that it was leaking into his voice. "My city and all my forces are at your command. No matter what the rogue Riders must be stopped."

"Thank you, Lord Vidar," Eragon said.

As Eragon marched towards the tower in the middle of the fort, he gestured for Lynde and Volyeth to follow him. Lynde obeyed, but Volyeth said, "I am sorry, but both I and Glideith am tired. We would like to rest for a while."

Eragon nodded understandingly and looked to Lord Vidar. "Find places for Volyeth and Glideith to rest. They've had a long journey."

Lord Vidar bowed. "Of course." He turned to a servant and told him to carry out Eragon's instruction.

Eragon then said, "And prepare places for the other Riders who will be coming. At least half the order will be coming, so there had better be enough room for about thirty Riders and as many Dragons."

Lord Vidar looked shocked at the amount, but soon he calmed and said, "I will try, but that's a lot of Dragons. The Riders will have to share rooms, and the Dragons… I don't want to think of the Dragons."

"Please do or else it might be difficult for us to put down this rebellion," Eragon said in a matter of fact sort of way.

Lord Vidar nodded. "I'll do what I can, but it will be difficult."

As Lord Vidar left to make arrangements, Eragon said one last thing. "And stop all travelers coming or leaving the city. No one may enter or leave until I say so."

Lord Vidar looked surprised and Lynde felt just the same. To impose such a thing on a village like Cathalorn would be viewed as a massive inconvenience at best, but to do it to a city seemed worse. She had seen from the air as they were passing over the wall that many travelers came and went from this city, so to stop all of them would be ridiculous. She could only wonder for what reason he did this.

Lord Vidar did not question Eragon's order though and simply left with a nod. Lynde realized that many might follow a man like Eragon without question for various reasons. He was a war hero for one, and was incredibly powerful for another. They might do it out of respect or fear, or perhaps they believed he could do no wrong, which she knew in itself was wrong. Anyone could make a mistake and a Rider was no different, not even—she believed—a Rider such as Eragon. Lynde felt like she had to question him at this point.

She did not move from behind Eragon as she asked, "Why stop the travelers?"

Eragon turned around, his stern face making Lynde squirm a little, and said, "There are many spies who work for the Riders in Gil'ead alone, and they may be conflicted as to who to trust. I intend not to allow them any way to contact Alaric or the other Elders by stopping them before they leave the city. While Alaric and the others may guess that I went to Gil'ead, they would not know that I had amassed so many Riders against them and they would have to surrender to us at that point."

His reasoning made sense, but Lynde had one more question. "What about the magic mirrors they might use? I saw Arlen use one when we were in Surda to contact Kaesdir and Haldthin, and it worked without him being a magician. Wouldn't a spy of the Riders have a similar mirror?"

Eragon nodded. "It would, but I am about to stop them from doing so with a spell. If I would be allowed to cast it, then the plan will be foolproof."

"What's stopping you then?" Lynde asked.

"You asking me questions."

Lynde lowered her head in shame. She hadn't meant to do that. "I'm sorry, Eragon."

"You couldn't have known," Eragon said, raising her head to look at him. His face had softened somewhat, allowing her to fear him less. She actually found herself being attracted to Eragon again, but that was foolish, youthful thinking. She buried those feelings to make sure she wouldn't do anything she might regret. "If you are alright, I shall begin the spell," Eragon said.

Lynde nodded. "Don't let me delay this any longer."

Eragon nodded and stepped back. He began to speak a spell using words that he kept hidden from her with another spell. She wondered why he didn't want her to know the words he spoke, but she did not ask either as she'd taken up enough of his time. When he was finished, he looked to Lynde and said, "Now only I can contact anyone outside Gil'ead, as only I know the words to get past this spell."

Lynde nodded understandingly, but there was some regret that went with that. Now that she couldn't contact Artsanna to see how she was doing in the Unknown Lands. While she hadn't before now, she had only thought of it after he said that she couldn't. It was funny how things worked out like that, but it was also sad. Now she had no way knowing if Artsanna was alright or not, other than having Eragon contact her for her, but she didn't want to trouble him any further. Eragon looked around and said, "I think it's time for a bite to eat. How about you?"

"I guess," Lynde said passively. She wasn't feeling too hungry for some reason, even though she hadn't eaten all day. She decided that she needed to eat whether she felt like or not and said, "Do you know of anywhere to eat around here?"

Eragon looked around and said, "Well the first time I was here, they fed me in my cell, but I wouldn't recommend that." Lynde snickered at his joke, which he smiled at. "In all seriousness, we can ask the servants and they'll probably get food for us."

Lynde nodded. "That seems like a good plan."

Eragon seemed like he was about to look for a servant, but he didn't need to as one had approached without them knowing. It was a young boy, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, who said in a light voice, "If it pleases you, masters, I can lead you to your rooms and get you lunch."

Eragon smiled and said, "Thank you. I think it will."

The servant led them into the tower and up serval flights of stairs. As he did he talked. "If you don't mind my saying so, it's lucky that you arrived when you did, seeing as how the last guest who stayed in your room, master Eragon, left just today."

"Who was he?" Eragon asked with curiosity in his voice. Lynde wasn't all that curious, but she'd still listen since this was of such fascination of the servant boy.

"It was a great swordsman: Arlen Shadeslayer."

Lynde paused for a moment on the stairs. Arlen Shadeslayer could have only referred to the one she knew as Arlen of Cathalorn. Taking that into consideration, she wondered what business Arlen had that had brought him to Gil'ead, and how it was that the two of them missed each other by a matter of hours. It was unbelievable, and while she wanted to go after him just to meet him again, the only way she would be able to catch up would be if she took a Dragon, and she didn't want to bother them with that.

When she got over her shock she found herself several steps behind Eragon, who had stopped and looked back at her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

After a moment's consideration she said, "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's keep going." Eragon accepted that and they began to climb the stairs again.


	14. Another Delay

As Arlen walked down the streets of Gil'ead, a man on horseback sped past him. He looked as if he was a courier, so Arlen wasn't too outraged. It was about the nicest thing he'd noticed about this street, oddly enough. Thieves eyeing him up, shouting from the houses, and an air of distrust kept his hand on the hilt of Mor'ranr. He hated cities and wanted to be gone from this one as soon as possible.

The only thing that had kept him in this city so long was tracking down Berke, which he had been quite fruitful in. He and his wife Wyeth had been fine since Arlen and Herbst left them, which had lightened his heart considerably. Last he had seen of Berke, the clerk was being taken away to be imprisoned, so seeing him free was gladdening. He had worried that Berke might have been punished severely because of how he had helped them before, but those fears were laid to rest with his visit.

Things were actually going right for Berke. He had been promoted—somehow—in his job at the Magicians' Tower, he had reunited with his nephew in the Magicians, and he and his wife were expecting their first child. It was almost disturbing how right his life had gone in Arlen's absence, but he supposed there was something to be said for helping people and being rewarded for it. With Berke found, Arlen had no reason to stay in Gil'ead so now made his way to the gates of the city to leave this place for good.

As Arlen caught sight of the gate he saw the courier that passed him handing a scroll to the guards stationed there. He didn't think much of it and walked to the gate. As he approached, the gate guards crossed their spears in front of him and one of them said, "None shall pass, by order of Lord Vidar."

Arlen frowned. "Why?"

"You'd have to take that up with Lord Vidar," the gate guard said derisively. "For now, leave."

Arlen felt like cutting his way through them, but that was just frustration. He didn't really want to kill them if he didn't have to, and since he didn't, he wouldn't. There were many other solutions that were better and less violent than that, and he was ashamed that it was his first response to figure out how to kill them. He looked to the two of them and said, "I believe I will."

He turned and headed back to the fort. If they were restricting travel outside the city, then he'd have a hard time getting home. It could be a long wait unless he could convince Lord Vidar to let him leave Gil'ead.

He made his way back up the streets of Gil'ead to the fort, but as he did he became aware of the sound of a Dragon's wings flapping. As he looked to the sky he saw that not only was there one Dragon, but three. Three Dragons flying towards the fort. In addition to the ones he saw earlier, that meant that there were five Dragon Rider pairs in Gil'ead. Something big had to be happening to warrant that.

When he got to the fort, the soldiers at the gate let him by with little trouble. Once inside he asked to see Lord Vidar. He was escorted to Lord Vidar's study where he sat behind his desk writing up papers and giving them to couriers. He looked busier than normal, so Arlen hoped it wouldn't be too affected by him asking some questions. "Why can't I leave?" Arlen demanded.

Lord Vidar looked up for a moment then looked down at his papers again. He wrote as he said, "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow anyone in or out of the city without the permission of Eragon."

Arlen felt his eyes widen. The blue Dragon he'd seen flying into the city was Eragon's Saphira? Eragon was in the city? He remembered the last time Eragon had been somewhere he had, and how everything changed afterwards. If Eragon was in Gil'ead, then something even larger than he first guessed had to be happening.

While Eragon's presence changed a lot, it didn't change that Arlen wanted to go home. He asked Lord Vidar, "Could you ask Eragon to let me out of the city?"

"I'm busy quite busy at the moment and I assure you he's not being lazy either," Lord Vidar replied as he handed a message to a courier. The courier soon ran out of the room, and Lord Vidar said, "You'll have to wait a while before I can ask him."

That didn't help Arlen's situation at all. He wanted to get home before the first snowflake fell, but at this point he'd settle for some time that year. He had to think of something else. He asked, "What if I talked to Eragon directly?"

Lord Vidar shook his head. "I doubt you could. For now I think it would be best for you to stay here." The lord took a piece of paper and began to write something on it. "While I cannot give you your old room here, nor can I give you any room in the entire fort, I can give you this." Lord Vidar picked up a container of hot wax and poured it on his letter. He then stamped a seal onto it and looked back to Arlen. "This will give you room and board in any inn or tavern in the city courtesy of the Empire. We'll pay for you, but make sure you don't run up too large a bill."

Arlen cocked an eyebrow. "How large?"

"Let's just say, you should be reasonable in your demands. Ordering the cook to make every dish he knows and then deciding that's not good enough is not a reasonable demand, nor is trying to have every room in the inn. You can have the best room and the best food, but don't go and do something outrageous." Arlen nodded; that sounded like good limitations.

As Lord Vidar handed the letter over, Arlen said, "Thank you for your hospitality, but I'd like to leave before too long."

"I understand that," Lord Vidar said as he resumed his work. "You'll just have to be patient with us. If I have the opportunity, I'll ask Eragon about you leaving. At that point I don't know if he'll say yes or no, but at least I would have asked."

Arlen nodded. "Eragon probably has a reason for all this," Arlen said. "If I'm part of the reason, I'll understand. I just hope I can leave before I'm old and gray."

Lord Vidar nodded. "I wish you well." And Arlen left.

* * *

For the next few days, Arlen stayed at an inn not far from the northern gates. He wanted to leave Gil'ead as soon as possible, he felt like every moment counted. He sat by the window in his room, waiting for news to come, but none did.

In the time he was there, he saw many Dragons fly in. He tried to keep score of them, but he lost count sometime after twenty. It was difficult to imagine what all those Riders were needed for. Was there some war he didn't know about? There had to be a reason for this convention, but he didn't know what it was.

He kept his ears open during his meals in the common area downstairs, but there was nothing but vague rumors as to why the Riders were here. He didn't trust most of them since they were rumors, and laughed at the more ridiculous ones. A Rider wedding was one of the more tame theories he'd heard. Most of the rumors could be discounted with a simple question: why here? Why had they chosen Gil'ead and not one of their secret Rider bases to assemble? There were many questions he wanted answers to, but it seemed like he'd get none.

As he glanced out the window he saw something strange. It looked like a cloud, but was moving faster and with a group of Dragons, making him think it was a Dragon as well. As it passed through an area free of clouds he could see its form and color with better clarity and discovered something. It was Artsanna; the silver Dragon he had gone through so many adventures with was here in Gil'ead. If Artsanna was here, it stood to reason that Lynde was nearby as well.

He wanted to meet with the pair, if only for a few minutes. Catching up with them sounded more fun than waiting around his musty room for word on whether he could go or not. He decided that he would go to the fort and see about talking with his old friends. Hopefully they wanted to see him after so much time.


	15. The Sound of War

Rose—no, Lilyon was her name—was out wandering some miles from Gil'ead when she heard them. The wind picked up with the thunder of Dragon wings, blowing through the long grass and her long black hair. She looked to the sky and saw something she hadn't seen in over a century: it was at least ten Dragons flying east all with Riders on their backs. If there was a sight that could better strike terror into the heart of their enemies, she couldn't think of it without adding more Dragons.

As she got over her fear, she remembered her mission to tell the Riders about Murtagh and Thorn coming to Ilirea. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to complete that mission, with only one issue stopping her. She had no idea how she would tell them while they were up in the air and she was on the ground.

She counted her options on her fingers. Her first option would be to use some spell to make herself be heard all the way up there, though that seemed like a very difficult spell to word, and it could be very tiring. She would have to both yell over the flapping of Dragons and the wind, which seemed almost impossible to do from so far away. She could die or pass out despite her Elven strength from this spell alone and be unable to tell them anything. Waving seemed like a better option than that, even though it was entirely likely that she would be ignored or unnoticed in doing so.

Another option was to contact them mentally, but she hated doing that. It was bad enough when she had to use it in combat, but when she had to talk with someone she didn't even know it was uncomfortable. She could also be mistaken for an enemy, but that seemed unlikely. No matter how convenient it was, she wouldn't do it unless she had no other viable method of contacting them.

That's when she got the idea to put a delayed spell on one of her arrows and fire it up to where the Riders could see it. The delay would allow her to use the spell and power it on the ground, using far less energy than she would casting any spell in the air. While it would be tricky to time it, it seemed like the best option at present.

Lilyon pulled an arrow from the quiver at her side and drew back her new longbow. She took careful aim as she began the spell. She didn't want to accidently hit one of the Dragons as that might give the wrong impression. The easiest thing to do, she believed, was to make the arrow burst into flames so she made that the spell she would delay. By the time she had lined up her shot she, was nearly out of words in the spell.

She let loose her bowstring, allowing the wooden shaft to fly towards the clouds at a speed faster than any Human bow she knew of—and most Elven bows. She was glad to see it get up perhaps too close to a Dragon and then flash with white and red fire. The purple Dragon reared and flew down with two other Dragons. The purple one did not take the lead but a red-gold Dragon that could have only been Magnora. It was only now that Lilyon thought that this was not remotely a good idea.

Magnora flanked by the purple Dragon and a Dragon whose grayish color kept changing drastically with the light flew down. They landed in front of Lilyon where she got a better look at the Riders. One was Valvesz, who she had encountered before, and the other was a red headed Knurla who she did not know. And there was Alaric, who called out from atop Magnora, "What was the meaning of that?"

Lilyon bowed and said as respectfully as she could to the Rider Chief, "I did not mean to fire so close. I only meant to get your attention."

"You've got it," Alaric shouted. "Now tell us what you want."

Lilyon composed herself and said, "I have seen Murtagh and Thorn enter the city of Ilirea. They were not attacked or resisted in any way that I could see."

"I know this," Alaric replied. "Our spies have told us that he is a guest of High Queen Nasuada herself. We will deal with this, I assure you."

She looked to them, then looked to the Dragons circling in the sky, waiting for their chief, and asked, "Are you going to deal with them now?"

"No," Alaric said. "We are going to Gil'ead to… well, fight Eragon."

Lilyon cocked an eyebrow. "That seems unrelated."

"It probably is," Alaric said. "But we must stop him before he splits the Dragon Rider Order in two."

This whole thing confused Lilyon. Why were they going to fight Eragon and why did they think he was going to split the Riders? While she wanted to ask them, they seemed to be in a rush. While she might only get in the way, she asked, "Might I come with you?"

Alaric paused before saying, "What is your name?"

"Lilyon the Wanderer," she declared. "And if you don't remember that name, Rose Redcloak."

It sounded like he snapped his fingers. "I thought I recognized your voice." That was true; no matter how she had changed in appearance, she was still speaking in the same guttural voice she had spoken in for the past few decades. Even if she looked like an Elf, she didn't enjoy sounding like one. "Of course you may join us. You are a Shadeslayer, and just before that you fought Elf Queen Arya in single combat. You might just come in handy during the upcoming battle."

Lilyon gave a smile that was like a frown. She didn't like the comment, but she would put up with it as long as she could find out what was going on and help any way she could. She went to Magnora and climbed aboard.

After they had taken off and rejoined the other Dragons in the sky, Lilyon asked, "So why are we fighting Eragon?"

After a moment that Alaric probably took to cast a spell to speak through the winds around them he answered, "He has been corrupted by a dark mind. His entire thinking process has been altered. He may not even realize it, but he is now an agent of the one who corrupted him."

Lilyon was surprised. To change a mind without the owner realizing it took skill that she did not think anyone possessed. For Eragon, a man with a Dragon in his head, to fall victim to this made it doubly impressive. She asked out of curiosity and fear, "Who corrupted him?"

Alaric shook his head. "No one that still lives. That should be enough for you." It wasn't, but she decided that was all she would get out of him. If he was being cryptic about this, then it was doubtful that anything she could say would convince his to tell her the dark one's identity. Besides, it was probably something that would either take a long time to explain or would involve telling her Rider secrets, neither of which she particularly wanted to sit through.

They weren't far from Gil'ead. It would not be long until they confronted Eragon. While Lilyon thought that they may have been overdoing it as far as numbers were concerned, Eragon was a dangerous individual and sometimes it was best not to underestimate such people. While one could overestimate someone and from that fear them, it was doubtful that they were doing that now.

As she caught sight of the city she felt something. It was a sense that she was about to see and take part in an event that would be written into history. She also felt a sense of dread that what they were doing was a mistake. She rarely felt this way, but when it was there, she was rarely wrong. While she would not stop them based on a feeling, she kept her eyes open just in case a trap was ahead or she had fallen into one behind. She could only hope that what they were doing was right.


	16. Unlikely Soldiers

Lynde ran outside with glee as she saw Artsanna coming in to land in the fort. She had been glad to hear Artsanna's thoughts again when she came within mental range, and wanted more than anything to meet with her for the first time in over a week. As the silver Dragon swept down to the ground, Lynde saw that someone was on her back where she used to sit.

Her confusion changed when she saw who it was. It was the red haired, pale skinned student Rider Jeneve. While she was glad to see her friend again, she wondered why she was here at all since she was still a student. She asked, "What are you doing here, Jeneve?"

Jeneve sighed. "I asked that myself, but I've been told that it's because if we have a dedicated magician, Alaric's Riders may have trouble fighting us. I would use spells to disrupt them and demoralize them. It would make them believe that they had no chance of victory, not even with a glorious last stand."  
Lynde's eyes widened. "Are we going to kill them?"

Jeneve immediately shook her head. "No! We will wound them if we must, but we shall not kill them, not if we can help it. No Riders will die today." Lynde nodded. While she did not like the idea of fighting Dragons or Riders again, it was necessary for the unity of the Dragon Riders and peace in Alagaësia.

Those troubling thoughts were banished from her mind when she looked back at Artsanna and realized something. "Don't you have an egg on the way?" she asked.

Artsanna shook her head slightly, one of the many expressions she had that was more Human than Dragon-like. _It has been laid and Baeguirn now watches over it,_ Artsanna said proudly, mentally showing her the image of an egg that was silvery with a red-purple tint. Lynde found this combination colors strange but interesting. But as it set in Lynde realized that Artsanna was a mother now!

Lynde hugged the silver Dragon's snout and said with her mind, _Oh, Artsanna. You're a mother._

 _Yes I am,_ Artsanna laughed.

 _Is it to be given to the Riders?_ Lynde asked.

 _No, it shall be wild,_ Artsanna said. _I chose to allow my offspring a chance for a life I never had. As much as I love you, this life is a warrior's and a slave's. I would rather my little hatchling to have all the freedom there is for a wild Dragon to experience. While they may never know the beauties of Alagaësia, their battles will be their own and not the Riders'._

Lynde understood Artsanna's choice. Sometimes she hated this life. She had to fight and kill in a service she had never chosen to do. But as much as she hated it, she had freedom from village life and its boring nature. No matter its appeal, she did not want to go back to that life. Besides that, if she had never become a Rider, she would have never met Artsanna. It was still a difficult life, but it was one that she had to endure as she could not give it up now.

"Alaric's Riders are coming!" a man shouted, making Lynde look to the sky. Why she could not see them clearly, Artsanna did. Or rather, she saw the contrast between the gray clouds and the stark colors of the Dragons, and in doing so she saw them. They were here.

Lynde began to run to the armory to get her armor. As much as wards could protect, armor would significantly help them and would go on after they fell. Many of the steel plates and chainmail were made in the past few days in preparation for the coming battle, as Riders rarely carried armor with them. While there was no armor for Dragons here, they could just as easily make do without it.

Lynde put on the set for her. It was a chainmail shirt with a white gambeson that went over it, two steel vambraces for her arms and two greeves for her shins. Along with that came a steel helmet, but as she put it on she found it a little uncomfortable. She took it off and put it back on, this time wadding her long hair up to use as padding, which worked decently well. As she slung her sheath over her shoulder she felt as physically prepared as she could for the battle.

She then found her heart pounding so hard she almost fell over, bracing herself on a nearby wall. She didn't want to go out there and fight, possibly die if Alaric and his Riders weren't keeping up the same amount courtesy as Eragon's were. While it was entirely likely she would be safe, she didn't feel like risking it.

A hand patted her on the shoulder and she jumped away, ready for a confrontation, when she saw who it was. It was Ivuldr, his hair now a simple black, armor over his body, and wearing a solemn face. "If you don't want to fight, I can give you my assignment," he said.

Lynde looked into his face, searching for some hint of humor or arrogance, but found none. He continued. "I was tasked with guarding Jeneve during the battle, just in case she's in danger and mistaken for anyone other than a Rider. If you want, we can trade places."

While she was suspicious that this was just some mean prank, she decided that Ivuldr, despite all his Elven arrogance, wouldn't do such a thing. She nodded to him saying, "Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ivuldr replied.

As Ivuldr moved past her to leave the armory she asked, "Why are you doing this?"

He stopped and replied, "Because I've been where you are. I've experienced the fear of the battle to come, and wanted to extend to you a courtesy I was so long ago. Outside this very city, no less." He clicked his tongue. "How strange are the times we live in." Lynde didn't find his musing helpful as he finally left her alone.

Lynde tried to calm herself, taking deep, slow breaths to keep her heart from jumping out of her chest. She remembered that Jeneve would probably be safe even without her and how quick this battle was supposed to be with over thirty Riders against perhaps six at least. When that failed, Artsanna began to look into her mind and controlled her thoughts. While she did not like this idea of someone controlling her mind, it was Artsanna and all she did was help her focus on more calming thoughts, like her memories of summer in Cathalorn, and playing with the Dragon hatchling so long ago. It was not long before her heart slowed and she found herself ready to walk out of the armory.

Outside, all the Dragons were taking off with their Riders on their backs. The noise they made was deafening and their wings blew up enough dirt to form a huge cloud around the fort. It was not until sometime after they took off that Lynde could see anything again.

She went to Artsanna and Jeneve and said, "Has Ivuldr told you that I'm to guard you and not him?" Jeneve nodded. "Good." She considered something that could be an inconvenience and asked, "Now is Shadow around anywhere?"

"No," Jeneve replied. "I left him with Einer and Doraedor at the Tower."

"Good," Lynde replied. "We don't need his antics." Lynde looked around. "Where's a good spot to do your magic?"

Jeneve paused for a moment and pointed to the tower in the middle of the fort. "That should be good."

Lynde nodded. "I think it will. Have you got a sword?" Jeneve shook her head. "I'll get you one from the armory. Now is there anything else you may need?"

Jeneve looked to Artsanna's saddlebags and said, "I may need some help carrying these inside." Lynde followed her gaze to a saddlebag she hadn't noticed before that was large and bulging with something. "Have you been told what Eldunarya are?"

Lynde looked to Jeneve, eyes wide as she realize what she might mean by that. "You have Eldunarya with you?"

Jeneve nodded. "Razrok gave them to me before we left. He said that Eragon had ordered to bring them for use in this battle." Jeneve sighed. "He's the only full Rider left at the Tower. All the teachers have come, and even Karasi is here. I do not know how Alaric could possibly stand a chance."

Lynde shrugged. "He's got two other Elder pairs with him, and probably a few other Rider pairs. He stands some chance." Really Lynde didn't believe Alaric could win. They would bring the Corrupted One to justice, even if all they did was show their might.


	17. The Battle of Gil'ead

Lilyon watched as countless Dragons began to fly towards her, Alaric, and the other Dragon Riders, from Gil'ead. They had more Dragon Riders than she had seen in one place for over a hundred years. While Lilyon looked on them with fear, Alaric showed none. If only she knew what madness kept him so confident.

Lilyon decided that she had to at least make the situation clear to Alaric in case his eyes or his brain had stopped working. She tapped on his shoulder and said, "It seems this will be harder than you thought."

Alaric nodded. "Maybe," Alaric replied, his eyes still facing forward. "Maybe it will be harder to stop Eragon from hurting himself or others, but we'll fight if we have to."

"Riders or Dragons may die in that," Lilyon pointed out.

Alaric snapped his head towards her and said with anger in his voice, "No Riders will die today, nor any Dragons. For now we'll give them a chance to surrender."

Lilyon's eyebrows raised and she asked, "Who do you think is outnumbered?"

Alaric shook his head. "Numbers aren't everything, nor is strength. It is will that makes warriors, and I'm the best warrior in Alagaësia!" Alaric looked to the red-gold Dragon beneath them and asked, "What about you, Magnora? Are you ready to fight to the bitter end?"

Magnora reared her head, making Lilyon think they were about to be thrown off, but instead the Dragon said, _You're mad, Human, but it is a kind of madness I will embrace. I will personally break Saphira's bones if I get the chance. That pompous weakling has always thought herself prettier than I. I'll show her the beauty in strength!_ As Alaric and Magnora began to laugh,Lilyon realized that perhaps she had picked the wrong Dragon to ride.

Lilyon reached the objective conclusion that the Rider before her and the Dragon beneath her were absolutely mad! They were flying towards certain defeat and yet they laughed. They faced pain and they laughed. They thought of bringing hurt to the oldest Dragon currently living in Alagaësia and they laughed. She would have jumped off to escape them if they weren't so high up.

As the two groups of Riders neared each other, they began to slow. Eventually, when they were about fifty feet away from each other, they stopped and the Dragons began to flap their wings only to hover and not advance. That was when Alaric cast a spell she recognized to make his voice heard over greater distances, and yet not make himself too loud nearby. Then he spoke. "Hail, my soon to be defeated foe! How have you been?" He was truly mad.

After a pause someone who she assumed was Eragon said with a voice that was probably altered by a similar spell to Alaric's, "You have no chance of victory. Give up, Alaric, and stop trying to get me to take your test."

"Not a chance," Alaric replied, keeping his mad tone. "I have never bowed to darkness before and I don't intend to start."

Lilyon could almost tell that Eragon shook his head, though she couldn't see it from there. "While you've gained the garrison of Edoc'sil," she would have to remember Edoc'sil as a Rider outpost, "and a few other Dragon Riders, you have no chance of victory. Give up."

"You have forgotten me!" a new voice interjected. A red Dragon came from Eragon's ranks and joined Alaric's. Lilyon could see that this new Rider was Karasi, the dark skinned Rider that she had encountered one or twice before.

"Karasi!" Alaric said gladly. "It is good to see you on my side again."

"That it is," Karasi replied. What she said next Lilyon assumed was for the Riders and Dragons on Eragon's side. "I have been taught by Alaric, as some of you have as well. While he may have a difficult relationship with Magnora and is just a little mad, he is steadfast and strong. Do you think for one moment that Alaric could be corrupted? It does not matter what Eragon says; Alaric is not corrupted. If anything, I say Eragon has been corrupted!"

"Impudent…!" Eragon started, probably catching himself from saying something he might regret. "You are making a mistake. You are all making a mistake! Alaric is the enemy. Why follow him?"

"Because," Karasi replied, "I do not believe a healer can be a murderer."

After a long pause Eragon said defeated, "You're fools and you'll be defeated as fools are. Charge!" That was when the battle began. Dragon flew against Dragon, clawing and biting at each other. Riders began to use spells to attack one another, their voices hidden by the winds. Many on Eragon's side were able to gang up on those from Alaric's. It was a nightmare, like a scene from the Fall.

At first Magnora did not attack Saphira, puzzling Lilyon. Then she understood as Haldthin and a large murky blue Dragon attacked their senior. Then Magnora tried to join the fray, but they were set upon by many other Dragons.

Lilyon drew her bow to help, but the first arrow she fired did something she did not expect. It passed through one of the Dragons without any injury. She expected it to be stopped by their wards, or failing that, stick itself into the Dragon, not pass right through. She soon realized that this was an illusion, and where there was one illusion, there were many more.

She tapped on Alaric's shoulder and said, "Some of the Dragons aren't real; they're illusions."

Alaric nodded as he yelled a short spell, causing a bolt of lightning to pass through his sword into an enemy Rider, who seemed tired but not injured afterwards, as did his Dragon. She supposed that the attack had sapped the young pair's strength through their wards. They retreated towards the city as Alaric said, "I thought as much. Whoever has made these illusions has a lot of strength, strength they should be putting towards the battle. They probably have a magician with either a lot of volunteers or stored energy to cast these. I'll send Karasi and Valvesz to deal with it."

"And me," Lilyon added. Alaric looked at her like she was the mad one. "I'm no good here, and maybe if your Riders can't get through, they'll miss me."

Alaric paused before nodded. "Alright then, if you can get to them, you can go."

Lilyon began to smile but stopped as she saw what she had to do to get to the Riders. They were embattled by several other pairs and were at least seventy feet away and below them. She'd try though, if only to make sure these illusions were stopped.

The illusions made it hard to tell what was and wasn't real; whether the spell they were about to use was going towards a legitimate threat or a trick of light. It made them focus on thing they didn't need to and probably demoralized them too. They had to be ended, if only to keep the focus on the real threats and not the fake ones.

Lilyon looked to Karasi and Valvesz and jumped. At first she was going higher, then about a third of the way there she began to fall. Her descent brought her to the Dragons' battle, but it looked like she was going to miss them entirely. Then one of the Dragons' tails hit her in the midsection, probably by accident, and she grabbed on.

She managed to avoid the spikes of the tail, but not the Dragon's attention. It twisted around and whipped its tail onto one of its opponents. Lilyon's wards—which she had been prepared just for this battle—held up but just barely. She lost her grip on the tail and slid down the Dragon's side. As she was about to fall off the Dragon, she grabbed onto one the straps of its saddle and hung on tightly.

She looked at the Dragon's scales and found that they were red; the same shade of red as Karasi's Dragon. She had gotten to her destination. She climbed up the Dragon's side to the saddle and yelled to Karasi, "Let's go!"

Karasi nodded and her Dragon started towards the city, followed by Valvesz's. While it seemed dubious to send two pairs to deal with this when they were outnumbered in the battle, Lilyon reasoned that it was because a Rider could be guarding their magician and they couldn't be too safe in this venture. With that in mind, Lilyon held onto the red Dragon's saddle as they sped towards the city.

"Now if you were a magician loyal to Eragon where would you be?" Karasi speculated. It was a good point; they had no way of knowing where Eragon's magician was. But it stood to reason that they would be somewhere well defended or not entirely obvious. Lilyon and Karasi had the same idea at the same time, but the Rider said it first. "The fort! If they're not there, we might never find them, but we might as well check it first."

 _Aye,_ Valvesz added. _Let's go._

As they flew towards the fort in the center of Gil'ead, their earlier combatants followed them. Five pairs of Dragon and Riders chased them over the rooftops. Lilyon knew it would be bad if they led them all the way to the fort where perhaps hundreds of soldiers, a Rider pair, and a powerful magician waited for them. At the same time, the longer those illusions were in play, the worse it would be back there. Lilyon decided that she had to do something about them even if it was only waylaying them.

She took a rope from Karasi's saddlebags and tied it around her waist, thinking through a plan to use it as she did. When she was done she tied the other end of the rope to the shaft of an arrow and loaded it into her longbow. She said to Karasi, "I may not be back. Don't wait for me." Before Karasi could speak a response, Lilyon released the bowstring.

The arrow flew through the air and embedded itself in a Dragon's wing, particularly in the limb instead of the membrane. The Dragon howled as Lilyon jumped off of Karasi's and swung down with the rope. She fell faster than the Dragon did, who could not fly with an arrow in its wing like that. Her trajectory led her down less than ten feet away from the street below, but during the upswing she drew her dagger and cut the rope. She went flying into the air, guiding only by a spell she crafted as she fell.

She landed on the lead Dragon, which the Human Rider took offense to. He swung his sword at her, but his paltry strength allowed her to block the strike with her dagger. She used Elven speed to grab onto his sword hilt and use her knife to cut the straps of his saddle, making him slide off. The Dragon began a descent, probably caring about its Rider too much to allow him to fall to his death. She then jumped off of his Dragon, and since they were in such tight formation she made it to the Dragon behind his, holding onto its wings with all her strength.

This new Dragon would have none of Lilyon's tricks and twisted and turned to shake her off. It succeeded as Lilyon lost her grip. As she fell, she looked back at the Dragon and saw how much she had slowed it. Perhaps that was all that she had done it the end; slowed them. But as long she had bought Karasi and Valvesz some time she had been successful.

She landed on a rooftop, knocking the wind out of her with the last energy she had in her wards. Her bones, if they were not broken, were bruised and she was done. She had done what she could, and could go no further now. It was up to the Riders and the Dragons to what would happen next.


	18. The Battle Below

Arlen looked up to see Dragons flew overhead, fighting in midair. As they smashed into buildings he realized how insignificant he was to them; how small a man like him was to creatures such as them. Their power was great, and all Arlen could do was run for cover and hope they wouldn't smash it.

Arlen ran to a shop's doorway nearby to wait it out, but he found several other people there. Scared men, women, and children alike hid from the battle above. The doorway looked full, so Arlen decided that he could not impose on them to find room and ran out.

He decided that he would find a Rider to explain all this, considering it was their battle. But where to find them? He saw a Dragon go down nearby, so he decided to run to it and hear what his or her Rider had to say.

Arlen dashed to where he saw the Dragon—who had scales the color of violets—had crashed to find the pair sitting dejectedly together. The Dragon's wing bled, but the Urgal Rider did not heal it. He wondered why she didn't, so instead of asking about the battle he slowly approached the Rider and asked cautiously, "Why don't you heal your Dragon?"

The Urgal looked to him with tears in her eyes, tears he thought weren't possible for one of her kind, and said, "I don't have the strength. She doesn't have the strength. Together we have nothing. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I could barely stand as she can't. We're too tired."

Arlen looked at the ground. Blood dripped from the Dragon's wing onto the stone pavement. It had to stop before it bled to death. For a moment he considered withholding his help, but he soon realized that Lynde wouldn't stop herself; she'd do what she could to help anyone. He summoned his courage and said, "How much energy do you need to stop the bleeding?"

The Urgal Rider shrugged her large shoulders. "I don't know," she said. "More than we can afford to lose."

"What about me?" Arlen asked. The Rider looked surprised, and Arlen certainly felt like that. He couldn't believe what he was offering to do, but it was what Lynde would have done. "What if I gave you the energy to heal… him, her, whatever your Dragon is?"

"Him," the Rider said. "And yes, I think that would be enough. You might feel a little tired though." As the Urgal spoke the first syllable of a spell, she turned back to Arlen and asked, "How do you know so much about magic?"

Arlen shrugged. While he could explain in depth why he knew what he did, he decided that the simplest answer was the best here. "I've spent a lot of time around magicians."

The Urgal nodded, satisfied with his answer, and began her spell. It didn't take long and Arlen felt a little out of breath afterwards, but the Dragon's bleeding stopped. The Urgal smiled and said softly "Thank you" before passing unconscious.

Arlen hoped they would be alright. The battle above looked fierce, and he didn't know why they were fighting, what the sides were, or what side the pair down here was on. All he knew was that someone had stirred up some trouble and that someone would have a lot to answer for.

For a moment he believed that one side had to be in the right and one in the wrong, but then he remembered Surda. In Surda he still didn't know who had been right or wrong. Was it possible that no one be in the right during a war or battle? He didn't know and didn't know what was going on here either. All he knew was that he needed to find a safe place to wait the battle out.

He looked around and saw a group of soldiers hiding in an alleyway across the empty street. They cowered in the shadows, trying to hide from the battle above. They had a similar objective, it seemed, but he did not want to associate with them. They were supposed to be soldiers of the Empire, but the cowered like children.

Only one man stood above them, shouting for them to move. "Come on, men," he shouted. "We need to get to the fort! We'll be safe there."

"Those Dragons were headed there," Arlen heard one of the soldiers say. "They'll burn it to the ground."

"Some of them were on our side!" said the man who had to be the leader. "They'll stop them before they get there. Now come on!"

Arlen decided that if he could help the soldiers get moving, the leader might let him into the fort. Perhaps it was foolish to think so, but he'd at least try it. It was better than anything else he could think of.

Arlen ran across the street and said in his best commanding voice, "Come on, soldiers of the Empire! You should be proud to wear your country's uniform."

The leader turned at looked at him with a hostile look. "Who are you to command my men?"

"I am Arlen of Cathalorn, Shadeslayer and Ra'zac bane," he declared. The leader's expression turned from one of anger to one of awe. It surprised Arlen to get that sort of reaction, but he went along with it. "If one man can face down certain death and not wear the Empire's standard, then," he counted them and said, "six men can wear it and face down a thousand deaths. It was true under Galbatorix, and it shall be true under Nasuada."

One of the soldiers stood up from where his comrades cowered and said, "We shall make it true! Come on!" One by one all the soldiers stood and filed out of the alley. The held their spears straight and the stood at attention. Arlen smiled at their newfound courage.

The leader nodded and pointed towards the fort. "Let's go!" They then began a light run down the street, and Arlen followed them. The leader looked to him and said, "Thank you for getting them on their feet."

"You're welcome," Arlen replied. He looked over the man and realized that he was not much older than he was. He was less than twenty and had a short beard that was visible through the gaps in his helmet. Curiosity struck him and he asked, "What's your name?"

"Kordell," the soldiers' leader said. After a moment he added, "It's a family name."  
Arlen nodded. "Good name."

As they ran along Arlen asked what exactly was going on, and Kordell answered to the best of his ability. Apparently the two sides were being led by Eragon and Alaric, with Alaric attacking and Eragon defending. While he didn't know why they were fighting, he was helpful in answering every other question he had. When he asked about Lynde and Artsanna, Kordell said, "Sorry, but I don't know where they are. I'm usually at a barracks closer to the wall, so I haven't been in the fort for a while."

Arlen was disappointed. He knew that Lynde and Artsanna were here, or at least he believed it, so they had to fit in somewhere. While it was likely that they were on Eragon's side considering how he saw Artsanna just earlier that day, it might have been that they were scouting for Alaric's Riders. They were rather good with stealth, so they would probably scout well enough without being seen. He didn't know that it matter though, considering that she could be harmed no matter what side she was on.

Arlen wondered why Alaric and Eragon were fighting. Perhaps it had something to do with the meeting Alaric said he was going to before he left Gil'ead. Maybe the meeting caused the conflict, or perhaps the conflict caused them to meet in the first place. In any case, Arlen had to survive their battle and as long as he stuck with the soldiers he just might do that.


	19. No Rider

Lynde looked out from the window of the tower and saw the great battle taking place in the gray sky. Alaric's Riders were overwhelmed by Eragon's, not to mention confused by Jeneve's illusions. They couldn't win, but there was no clear way of escape either. Artsanna noted, _Some may get away, but I doubt Alaric will. After today, there will be no more fighting._

Lynde looked to Jeneve, who was almost constantly speaking in the Ancient Language. She had to maintain constant control of her spells in order for them to adapt to their surroundings and opponents. Sweat beat down her brow and she looked paler than normal. While the Eldunarya poured energy into her spells, it had to go through her first and it was taking a toll on her. Lynde worried for her and said, _I hope so, Artsanna._

Jeneve's spells echoed through her helmet. While she had not been expected by the armor smiths of Gil'ead, she did get a helmet and some armor from the armory. While the helmet masked most of her face, Lynde still saw a bit of it through the visor. The gedwëy ignasia on her cheek was covered by the helmet, though hopefully that wouldn't come up. Hopefully she wouldn't need the helmet at all, but with how things looked, she might.

There were Dragons coming towards the fort being pursued by other Dragons. She didn't know why they were coming or who was on which side—she hadn't memorized them all—but she decided to be ready for them. She exited the room where Jeneve cast her spells, whispering, "I'll be right back. Don't worry." Jeneve didn't give a response, only continued with her spells. Lynde then climbed down the stairs and went outside the tower, watching as the Dragons got closer.

The Dragons now tangled with each other in midair, clawing and grappling each other. Lynde looked to Artsanna and asked, _Should we help?_

Artsanna gazed at the battle and said, _Perhaps not. I see Dragons fighting each other whose Riders both have armor of Gil'ead, so I do not know who to aid. It seems as though one of them as switched sides._

Lynde raised her eyebrows and said, _Who would do that?_

Before Artsanna could say anything, two Dragons—one red and one a flaming chartreuse—fell towards the wall and smashed into it. The chartreuse one bore the brunt of it and the two fell onto the ground. The red one stood up and bellowed a roar as the chartreuse one stayed down. It was obvious who won, but who was on their side?

Lynde and Artsanna approached cautiously. Lynde had Iet'baen drawn in case they had to fight them. As they approached, a Dragon with pale orange scales crashed on the ground and a purple one went to the red one. The two pairs didn't fight and as Lynde got closer she recognized all of them, to her displeasure.

The red Dragon was Shival and the purple one was Flame-Fang, and their Riders were Valvesz and Karasi. She knew that it was unlikely that Valvesz had switched sides, but she had trouble believing Karasi had either. Lynde decided to find out who had. "Whose side are you on?" she shouted.

"Alaric's," Karasi said. "And we've come for the magician."

Lynde didn't need to hear any more. They meant to threaten Jeneve, and she wouldn't have that. What was worse was Karasi's betrayal. She wore the armor of Gil'ead, but fought for Alaric's Riders. She was a traitor much like another Rider who rode a red Dragon. But while Lynde fumed about Karasi's betrayal, Artsanna formulated a plan of attack.

Artsanna told Lynde of her plan, which she would follow. She grabbed onto Artsanna's saddle and the silver Dragon leapt towards their opponents. While Artsanna was almost upon Shival, Lynde jumped off her and towards Valvesz. Artsanna noted that Flame-Fang was tired and breathing heavily from his fight and would have trouble protecting his Rider. Lynde tackled Valvesz off his Dragon and onto the ground.

As Lynde got up Valvesz did too and drew his sword. Lynde lunged at the Urgal, who gave an inexperience parry. He then swung his sword at her, but she blocked his attack several feet away with Iet'baen's long blade. After a few more exchanges, Artsanna—who thought faster than anyone Lynde had known—noted that he probably favored aggressive movements, and would vulnerable to counterattacks. Now she knew how to beat him.

Valvesz batted Iet'baen away and held onto it with one hand as he lunged and Lynde. She let go of the sword with her left hand and used the vambrace on it to parrying Valvesz's attack. She then jumped into the air and kicked Valvesz in the chest with both feet. As she fell down he staggered back and she was able to get up before he recovered. She then raised her sword and swung down upon Valvesz, aiming for his left shoulder. While he raised his sword to block, it wasn't in time and her blow struck.

Valvesz howled as the sword smashed the bones in his shoulder. Lynde withdrew Iet'baen, shocked that his wards hadn't stopped it form him. He dropped his sword to try and stop the bleeding. He whispered something, probably a healing spell, and she let him. While another strike would have probably allowed her to sever his arm, she didn't want that. He was beaten enough.

Behind her, Flame-Fang jumped towards her, only to be pounced upon by Artsanna. The silver Dragon wrestled the purple one to the ground and he stayed there. Shival then tackled her, an impact that Lynde felt through their bond. Artsanna managed to throw him off and they began their fight anew.

Artsanna breathed silver fire at Shival and then wacked him with her mace-like tail when he was distracted by the flames. Dazed, he was easy prey for Artsanna who pounced on the Dragon twice her size and smashed him through the fort's wood and cobblestone wall. Shival was down and with him Karasi.

Lynde then looked to her opponent Valvesz, who was kneeling on the ground. His breath was sharp and ragged. "Do you admit defeat?" Lynde said, hoping he would say yes. She didn't want to fight any more Riders today.

Valvesz nodded his horned head. "Yes, but only ours. You will not have the strength to battle who is to come."

Lynde shook her head, tired of his resistance. "Why don't you just give up? Eragon swore in the Ancient Language he wasn't the Corrupted One."

Valvesz scoffed. "He spoke what he knew perhaps, but that was all. He is corrupted and he doesn't even know it."

"How?" Lynde asked. "How could he not know he was corrupted?"

"Because his perceptions have changed drastically," Valvesz explained, still out of breath. "He sees each action as necessary or just, when really it is evil. The corruption has blinded him, turned him into a contradiction of a Human being, and now he fights not knowing the damage he causes."

Lynde had had enough of Valvesz. Each of his points struck deep and made her doubt herself and her choice. She had doubted herself enough in the past and would do so no longer. "Syltha," she said, and Valvesz dropped to the ground asleep.

With the four of them down, Lynde and Artsanna thought it was over. Then there was a shudder in the air as another Dragon flew towards the fort. Lynde looked up and saw Magnora herself flying at the tower with Alaric on her back. Lynde prepared to fight him, but Magnora ignored them entirely and went straight for Jeneve's window. Alaric jumped off Magnora through the window.

Lynde panicked, her heart beating fast as Jeneve was in danger, and ran towards the tower only to be blocked by Magnora. She guarded the entrance with her body and a firm gaze towards both Lynde and Artsanna. When Artsanna pounced on her, she threw the smaller Dragon off with ease. But Artsanna didn't give up and eventually goaded Magnora into a longer fight. This longer fight allowed Lynde to slip past the red-gold Dragon and into the tower. She ran up the stairs to Jeneve's room where she heard the clanging of swords.

She opened the door and tried to run in with her sword, but her sword caught in the doorway. She had to hold to awkwardly in the middle to get it through. She didn't think long about the downside of having a very long sword like this because she was afraid for Jeneve.

As she saw Alaric and Jeneve fighting she saw no real contest. Jeneve's borrowed sword bent and twisted against Alaric's strikes and she whimpered as he pounded upon her. Lynde ran at Alaric, ready to run him through. He sidestepped her though and let her run to the window. Her sword wanted to drag her out the window, but she managed to hold on and keep herself from falling out. She looked back to Alaric and Jeneve and was horrified.

Jeneve had stabbed Alaric in the side, to which the man turned and slashed her across the neck. Blood drained from her wound and she fell to the ground gurgling. As she fell, her helmet slipped off, revealing her shocked face and the gedwëy ignasia on it. She soon stopped moving, only spouting one half intelligible word before then. "No…" Jeneve was dead.

Alaric had killed her. As Lynde looked at Alaric his hands shook and his breathing stilled. Tears ran down Lynde's face as she looked back to Jeneve again. Her friend who she had only known for a little while was dead. She had known much tragedy since she had become bonded, but she thought it was over when she joined the Riders. Now Alaric proved both Lynde's beliefs and Jeneve's words wrong; one Rider had died today.

Lynde wanted to drop to the ground, but she didn't. She put energy back into her limbs and swung Iet'baen at Alaric in a fit of anger. "You killed her!"

Alaric turned to Lynde and parried her blade. He then punched her in the gut, his hilt adding to the strike. He then whispered with a trembling voice, "I never meant to."

She looked up and saw there were tears in his eyes and down his cheeks. As she looked at him she thought perhaps that he had never meant to kill a Rider. While he might not have known Jeneve personally, he wept for the Rider he had killed no matter who it was. In that moment she realized that Alaric was Human. Perhaps he wasn't corrupted or perhaps he was, but no matter what he was Human.

Alaric let Lynde fall to the ground and walked over to the window. He said with thoughts he didn't hide from Lynde, _We are leaving. Eragon has won._

As he climbed out the window to Magnora, Lynde went after him. She wouldn't let the Corrupted One escape her. She jumped out the window and onto Magnora. After the Dragon took off and was over the fort wall she shook off Lynde, much to her terror. Artsanna tried to catch her with her feet, but was weak from her battle with Magnora and dropped her. She didn't fall far to the ground, but it still hurt when she was there.

As she got up she heard the words "It's one of them! Attack!" She turned to see a group of soldiers charging her. She didn't feel like talking and correcting them, so she would instead defend herself. They trusted spears at her, which she parried to the best of her ability. She drove her sword through one of their shields and withdrew it to hit them with the flat. As she flailed around with no plan or reason for fighting, her sword met with another and she stopped.

As she examined the sword, she found it to be pitch black other than a ruby at the cross guard. She followed the hilt to a rough hand and up a sleeve that had been sewn back on sometime this summer or autumn considering that the stiches hadn't faded or stained much yet. She followed it to a shoulder, then a neck, a head, and finally two gray eyes. She looked into stern gray eyes that she thought were so familiar, then as she withdrew her gaze she saw the rest of the face and knew this man's name. She uttered the name that she had known so well under her breath. "Arlen."


	20. Face to Face Again

Arlen looked at the Rider before him who he had locked swords with. Her sword was longer than any Human blade he had seen and pure silver. She was clothed in white and wore armor of steel. A helmet covered most of her face, but she was human as far as he could tell and had green eyes. She had fought like nothing he'd ever seen; defeating four of the Empire's soldiers without killing them in what seemed like a mad frenzy. What was strangest about her though was her voice and what she said with it. "Arlen?" she said in a voice he found familiar.

Arlen thought he knew someone with a voice like hers, but he couldn't place it. Everything about her seemed strange and familiar; it was in her fighting style, her body language, and most of all her eyes. Where had he seen those eyes before? He decided to find out. "Who are you?"

The Rider stepped back and removed her helmet. As she took it off he found himself face to face with someone he didn't recognize at first. A few moments later he realized who she was and how much she had changed. "Lynde?" he said. "Is that you?"

Lynde nodded with tearstained cheeks. "It's me," she said with a catch in her throat and a laugh in her voice.

He looked at her incredibly long sword and her strangely changed face and asked, "What happened to you?"

"I became a Rider," she replied, her head lowered. She dropped her helmet with a clang. "I just didn't know what would happen to me when I did."

Arlen approached her carefully. "What happened?" he asked.

"No Riders were supposed to die," Lynde muttered, tears running from her eyes. She crumbled to her knees. "No Riders." Arlen didn't know who Lynde referred to, what side she was on or what side the other Rider was on, but he knew that someone had killed a Rider. Not even he killed the Riders he fought as they were only doing their job and they needed to be alive to be any benefit to the world. He wondered who condoned the killing of this Rider and why did this Rider die? But he could not know.

Above, Magnora, a red Dragon, and a purple Dragon took off heading north. Had one of their number fallen or had one of them killed? He had no way of knowing, but the two smaller Dragons seemed tired and flying erratically, so they were probably wounded or worse Riderless. But who knew what had happened today? Lynde knew, but she was in no state to tell him. He decided that he didn't have to know all the details to understand Lynde's sorrow.

Arlen knelt down to Lynde and put a hand on her shoulder. He didn't know what to say. He could say the wrong thing and make it worse; make her angry. He decided to just be there for her in case she needed to talk.

Behind him Kordell asked, "Who is she?"

Arlen didn't turn to him. He just said, "She is Lynde of Cathalorn."

"Oh," Kordell said, sudden realization in his voice. "Then she is your beloved?"

Arlen turned around, his brow furrowed, and asked, "What gave you that idea?"

Kordell looked nervous under his helmet. "It's just that the stories say you are in love with each other."  
Arlen shook his head at him. "We're not."

"Oh. I'm sorry then. We assumed…"

"You assume too much," Arlen said, cutting him off. "Now get your men into the fort. There seems to be a new entrance that needs guarding." Kordell nodded silently and started getting his men off the ground.

Arlen stayed with Lynde for what seemed like a long time in silence. He waited for her to say something, anything, so that he could know what went on in her head or what had happened to the Rider who died. Instead he was treated to silence as he waited. He hoped that what he was doing was the right thing.

Eventually a Rider who Arlen had learned to fear appeared. He wore armor with intricate designs on it that he did not know the origin of. His sword was long and blue, and his gaze intense. It was Eragon and he said, "Lynde, what are you doing?"

Lynde sprang up, much to the surprise of Arlen, and said, "I'm sorry, Eragon. I did not mean for my sorrows to overwhelm me."

"What sorrows?" Eragon asked.

"Jeneve… Alaric killed Jeneve." Arlen was surprised. She had told Eragon more than she had told him. And it was Alaric who killed the Rider? He didn't seem like the sort who would do that. "I failed… to protect her."

"You did the best you could and perhaps better," Eragon said. He looked to the hole in the fort's wall. "Much better." Arlen got up as soon as Eragon's gaze turned to him. "Who is this?"

"I am Arlen of Cathalorn," Arlen said.

"Oh yes," Eragon said in a moment of realization. "We've met before at Cathalorn."

Arlen nodded saying, "I remember."

Eragon looked back to Lynde and said, "Alaric's Riders got away. While we have captured some, they have escaped to wreak havoc somewhere else. We must find them."

"I'll do it," Lynde volunteered.

Eragon shook his head. "You should rest. You've had a hard day, as we all have."

Arlen decided that it was time for him to go, but hoping Eragon would listen he asked, "Recent events have not allowed me to leave Gil'ead. I was hoping you might allow me to leave."

Eragon nodded understandingly. "I doubt you are one of Alaric's spies, so there is no reason to detain you. You shall be allowed to leave at your earliest convenience."

Arlen smiled. He was finally getting to go back home to Cathalorn! He was finally going to see Leonie and his family again. He wanted to jump for joy, but he contained himself and said, "Thank you, Eragon Shadeslayer." Eragon nodded and left for reasons Arlen didn't know.

He turned to Lynde and his heart sank again. "I'm going home now," he said. She nodded solemnly. "I've been away too long already. I want to get home to my family. You understand."

She nodded. "I understand. I only wish I could go with you," Lynde replied.

Arlen understood and nodded. With the clear conflict between the Dragon Riders, it seemed unlikely that she would be able to have any free time. If she did go to Cathalorn, it would either bring her enemies with her or she would be following them there. Since neither one seemed desirable, it was best that she stayed here for now.

Arlen gave her a hug and said, "I hope I see you again when this is all over."

"So do I," Lynde said into his shoulder.


	21. Battered But Still Standing

Lilyon was lucky enough to escape with one of Alaric's Riders, despite her lack of energy, and meet up with the others outside the city. They flew as far as they could before it got dark, and then they met among some hills north of Gil'ead. All the Riders loyal to Alaric who had not been captured in the battle were here with their Dragons. They were eight in total, including Alaric himself. No one wanted to say it, but they had lost.

They sat around a large campfire, a couple of them cooking some meat they had brought, bathing in the fire's soft glow. Most of their faces were solemn or depressed. Alaric sat farther away from them, in the dark, and no one asked why. Lilyon did not know all of what happened, but she thought they were taking this loss rather hard.

Lilyon knew some of the Riders, but some were unknown to her. There were the Elders Kaesdir and Hvirag of course, and Karasi and Valvesz, and others whose names she had learned were Nardra and Risteárd. She was disappointed but not surprised to see that Volyeth was not there, as she had no expectations of loyalty from her. She was also concerned that Lynde wasn't there, but she might have been still training in the Unknown Lands. Before she could learn the names of the last two Riders, Alaric walked into the light of the fire.

Alaric looked most defeated. His face was solemn, and his sword was missing from his person. While it was hard to tell through the shadows, it looked like he had been crying as well. When he spoke it was clear, though it seemed like he was more performing a play than anything else. "I have decided that I should leave you all."

Immediately there were objections, most prominent was the Elder Hvirag due to his Knurlan voice. "Alaric, you can't just back down now. We've practically started a war and we need a leader and a fighter."

Alaric shook his head. "I am afraid that I am too much of one to be the other. Karasi and Valvesz know what I did and why I should not be leader, but the rest of you do not." He paused to take a breath, which Lilyon suspected was because he had difficulty with this subject. "I… killed a Rider." Even Lilyon gasped at that.

To kill a Rider, especially now when there were so few, was the ultimate crime. While there was no punishment any nation could impose upon Alaric, he would face judgement from his fellow Riders. Or at least, that was what Lilyon believed was true—she didn't know much about the intricacies of this.

Alaric sighed and said, "You know my shame. Now I must depart for the good of the cause."

"No, you cannot," Karasi objected as she stood up. "You must stay and lead us, no matter your crimes."

"To do that would invite corruption, and not the sort affecting Eragon," Alaric declared. "It would be a corruption of our beliefs and laws. To excuse one man's crime would be to say that he is better than all others, who had greater reasons than I. I did not intend to kill a Rider; I killed a woman I was enraged with. I did not know she was a Rider."

"Then you cannot be responsible," Karasi countered.

"Someone must be held responsible," Kaesdir pointed out. "It was his sword and his swing that ended her life, so it must be his responsibility."

"Oh really?" Hvirag said accusingly. "It was your orders that left Fyrn'hjarta in Ilirea, so does that make it your fault that she died?"

"I can't believe you would compare the two," Kaesdir replied. "It was Trianna's greed that caused her to die, not my orders."

Lilyon thought it was somewhat fascinating to see the Riders implode like this. They were no better than children now arguing over who was right. But she decided to intervene to try and resolve the crisis before it ended in all the Riders splitting up. Lilyon stood up and said, "If Alaric's going to leave, then let him. If he's going to stay, let him. There's no point in trying to change his mind."

Alaric looked to Lilyon and said dispassionately, "You're right. Now I'm going to leave for the good of the Riders." As he marched toward Magnora, the other Riders tried to stop him but failed. He took off and headed into the darkness, not to be seen by anyone around that campfire.

Kaesdir sighed and Hvirag pulled out a blade of grass from the ground and threw it. "Now what?" the Knurlan said. "Without Alaric, we don't stand much of a chance against Eragon."

Lilyon was surprised with the Riders. She thought they were smart, but if they didn't see the obvious, then she'd have to point it out. "What about calling upon the Elves or the Dwarves? Won't they help us in this battle?"

At first Hvirag gave her hostile look, probably because she had been the one that helped Alaric leave, but he soon calmed. "That's a good plan," he admitted. "Kaesdir could handle the Elves and I'll handle convincing King Orik to give us help. Between the two of them, they should be able to give some amount of help. Queen Arya is a Rider after all, so she should make an excellent ally."

"Yes, but what of here?" Kaesdir asked. "We need the bulk of our forces to stay in the Empire to prevent Eragon from wreaking havoc around here. Who do you think is best qualified to lead these Riders in our absence?"

Hvirag stroked his beard, and Lilyon thought on the matter as well. Obviously she was out of the question as leader, seeing as how she wasn't a Rider and her involvement with convincing Alaric to leave. Karasi and Valvesz were the next most senior Riders, but while one was an Urgal who might have trouble commanding respect amongst former enemies, the other had just been on the other side. Karasi could not yet be trusted with such an important role so soon after switching sides. Someone had to lead and no one seemed like a good leader.

That's when Kaesdir said, "What about Haldthin?" Lilyon was surprised with his suggestion to say the least. A Dragon to lead Riders? As much as Dragons were as intelligent as anyone else, it could be hard to command the respect of those around him. "I believe I can run to Du Weldenvarden from here, and Haldthin is as good as anyone I can think of to lead," Kaesdir declared.

There seemed to be a consensus, much to Lilyon's surprise, that Haldthin would do well as leader. "It's settled then," Hvirag said. "Haldthin's in command and we're going to get aid from the Elf Queen and Dwarf King."

"In the morning," Kaesdir pointed out. "For now we should eat and get some sleep." The Riders and Dragons followed Kaesdir's suggestion easily and the discussion ended for most of them.

As Lilyon got some of the meat, she began to consider some things. She had no way of knowing if this side was in the right or if they weren't. She had no way of knowing if she had chosen the right or the wrong side. She didn't know the details of Eragon's corruption, but it could have easily been nonexistent and an excuse by the Elders to grab power for themselves. While unlikely, it was very easy to imagine that the Elders were acting as the Forsworn had so long ago, with Alaric in the position that Galbatorix had been in so long ago.

She also had no reason not to believe them. She knew that Kaesdir was exceptionally honest for an Elf, so it didn't seem within his character to try something. While they could have been being manipulated by Alaric, he just left so that wouldn't be in keeping with his supposed dark character. Overall it seemed unlikely they would try to deceive the younger Riders like this, so why bother?

What was more interesting was that these Riders were fighting at all. They were always few in number, and they were fewer now, so why would they continue to fight if not for a good cause? They believed what they were doing was right so much that they didn't even care about doing the easy thing and giving up. They were going to fight until they couldn't any more or they were victorious, and that was what convinced her that they were the heroes and Eragon was the villain of this legend.


	22. Unlikely and Unwelcome

Arlen had left Gil'ead soon after the battle. He didn't want to waste time, so he packed what he would need for the journey and was off. He got quite a ways from the city on his first day, but not out of sight of it. On the second day he lost sight of it and walked on the road towards Carvahall and from there he would go to Cathalorn.

Arlen encountered few travelers on this road. While there was an occasional trader or wanderer, he could have probably countered the number of people he saw the morning on one hand. Perhaps it was the fault of Eragon and the Riders that few traveled to or from Gil'ead. It added to his feeling of being alone.

He felt so lonely on this trip back home. He'd struggled with it before when he was in Surda, and it was much the same now. Much like then, he was leaving great events that were still in progress, but he figured that they could do without him. One swordsman wouldn't make that much of a difference in the long run, he thought. Besides that, he wanted to get home to his family. But for now he was alone with no comrades or loved ones around him.

It was about midday—though he wasn't sure since the sky was overcast—when he passed a grassy hill. After he passed it, he heard someone behind him. He looked over his shoulder out of curiosity, but then turned his whole body around in defense. Who he saw behind him was someone he hadn't expected for very good reasons—like her being dead. Now that she was alive, he was fearful of her.

He knew this woman. He knew her dark red hair that matched her eyes. He knew her sickly pale face. He knew the way she clutched the sword at her side with the hand he had once removed. But most of all, he knew her name and her kind. He knew that she was a Shade and that her name was Tyra.

He didn't question how she had lived but decided to make sure she was dead. He drew Mor'ranr, the black blade he'd taken from the hand he had severed, and raised it in defense. She shook her head at him and said, "What makes you think I want to fight?"

The answer came easily to him. "You're a Shade and the last time we met, I killed you. Or at least I thought I killed you."

"I can only be killed by piercing my heart with a sword or similar such thing," Tyra said as she smiled condescendingly. "I thought you knew that."

He didn't lower his guard at all, not even to speak. He knew no words that would change his situation or ward her off. All he could do was be ready to fight her.

Tyra shook her head. "I don't particularly want to kill you," she said. "I only want the sword you bear." He didn't change his stance and she frowned. "It is mine and has been mine for a long time."

"I know where you got it," Arlen explained. He could at least save himself from hearing the whole story again. "You stole it from the dead body of a former lover."

"You make it sound like I killed him," Tyra said far too casually. "I didn't really. My past-self tried to heal him."

"I know all that," Arlen barked. "But I still won't let you take this." He decided to hazard a speech. "You Shades are evil and if I gave you this, I would be aiding in that evil. No matter what I will not willing give up this sword."

"Not even for your own?" Tyra said, holding her sword up in a way that let him see the length of it. After a moment he recognized the blade. It was his old longsword, the one his father had given him. He was shocked to see a sword he had known for so long in the hands of his enemy.

As much as he wanted it back, he still couldn't let her have Mor'ranr. "Not even for that," he said.

Tyra sighed and her arm fell to her side with the sword. "And after I tracked you down for so long. It wasn't easy to find you. I had to track you from one end of Alagaësia to the other and back again. You eluded me in Surda and I did not find Cathalorn until you were already gone." Arlen froze at the mention of his home. She had been to Cathalorn? "I didn't introduce myself to anyone, but I managed to divine that you weren't there by some… subtle manipulations."

Arlen could guess what she meant my by "subtle manipulations". She was a master mindbreaker and probably looked into people's minds for the information she wanted. What she did with them after that could be anything. She could have even changed that person to believe anything she wanted. The most harmless thing he could think of was making them believe they were a chicken or something. The worst thing would be if they started to lash out and try to kill their own neighbors. He hoped that she hadn't done anything like that.

Then he had a theory that perhaps she was behind all this. That she had manipulated the Riders into fighting each other. He opened his mouth to ask, but his mind was attacked before he could get words out. Tyra broke into his mind, through defenses he regretfully left unmanned, and now held him at her mercy.

He could hear her laughing. "The mere mention of Cathalorn—the idea I did anything to your precious village—sent you into a panic. How wonderful it must be to have empathy that betrays you like that. It was actually the first thing I lost when I became a Shade along with my gorgeous hair." She looked at him slyly which he tried to be brave in the face of.

"It was blonde once." He didn't know if that was a fact or something to tell him that she knew about Leonie. "Oh, you have a lover of your own now, how wonderfully tragic." His own mind betrayed him. Every time he thought of something, she heard it. No secrets could be kept from her, not one.

As she approached him, he realized that she was going to kill him. His heart beat faster and his mind raced to find a way out of this. He tried to lift his sword hand, but she didn't let him. He could think of nothing.

As his heart pounded away he began to hear it clearer and clearer. The thudding was like beat of a Dragon's wings. It grew louder and louder, but then he realized that it wasn't his heart. Somewhere nearby, a Dragon flew.

Tyra's control on him faded and he was able to remove her from his mind. All of her concentration seemed to be on the sky, on locating the Dragon. Arlen would make her mistake of ignoring him fatal.

Arlen swung his sword at her and she blocked it with her own. She pushed the sword back and jumped away from him at least twenty feet. She again looked around for the Dragon as the thundering continued.

Arlen prepared to charge her when she screamed and raised her sword to her neck. He couldn't believe it as she slit her own throat. She disappeared in a mist, leaving behind the sword. She was gone; not dead, but not here either.

Arlen approached where she had stood and looked at her sword. He thought it was his old longsword, but as he examined it he realized that it was just a normal longsword. It didn't have any of the features that he knew only his longsword had. It was disappointing, but he did look on the bright side—now he didn't have to carry another sword all the way home.

He heard the thundering getting closer and closer and he looked up to see its source. Out of the gray clouds came a huge Dragon with red-gold scales. It was Magnora and he assumed she had Alaric with her.

They descended to the ground, landing with a soft thud several yards away and Arlen started planning a defense against him. He was a rebel, leader of a splinter group of Riders fighting Eragon. He didn't know what his purpose was or if he might want to fight, but it was best to have a plan. He had no idea how he was deal with Magnora though, so he'd have to rely on talking for most of it, which he preferred.

Alaric marched over to the site where Arlen and Tyra had fought. He seemed surprised to see Arlen, and said, "I heard a woman scream. Where is she?"

"I don't know," Arlen said, shrugging his shoulders. "Tyra could be anywhere now."

Alaric's eyes widened and eyebrows rose. "Tyra's alive?"

Arlen nodded. "She wanted my sword."

"Only that?" Alaric asked.

"She probably wanted to kill me too," Arlen noted. "She got distracted though by Magnora's flapping."

"I didn't even know she was there until she screamed," Alaric admitted, scratching his head.

"I doubt she knew that," Arlen said.

Alaric looked at the site and then at Arlen. "Do you need some help getting home? Magnora can take you."

Arlen frowned. "Don't you have a war to fight?"

Alaric lowered his head. "Yeah, about that. It's going to take a while to explain so we might as well break camp."

Arlen looked to the sky. It was only a little after noon if he guessed where the sun was correctly. "It seems a little early to break camp," Arlen noted.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow. For now, I need to explain a few things." Arlen decided to listen as perhaps now he might learn the important details of what was going on in the world.


	23. Fallen Friend

Lynde knelt at her friend's grave, tears streaming down her cheeks. Many of the Riders and Dragons in Gil'ead had come to witness the funeral of one of their own. It wasn't often that a Rider died, especially a student, but even if it was common, the sorrow would still be great. No one there spoke or smiled. To them a Rider had fallen, but to Lynde it was Jeneve who had fallen.

Her friend who she had only known for a short time was dead. Lynde had learned to read and write from her, and she had been kind and warm with her. There was not much she could think or say about what made Jeneve a great friend, but she knew she was. Now all she could think of was that she wouldn't get to know her more.

Jeneve had been buried outside of the city, at the foot of a grassy hill. A headstone had been prepared and which read.

 _Here lies Jeneve who is now gone._

It was simple and true; all the terrible things a headstone should be.

All was silent until someone began to sing. It was an Elven voice and an Elven song that she heard. It was a dirge, as she understood it, for Jeneve. She understood some of it, but some of it she did not as she had yet to learn those words in the Ancient Language.

 _She was a beauty that has now faded, a strength that has now failed._

 _She was a calm in the storm and a gardener among the flowers._

 _She did much she will be remembered for, but we are sorrowful for what she did not do._

 _She was taken before her branches could reach their full height._

 _May she who graced us with her soul find peace in the place where we must all sometime go._

She did not know who sang it, but she did not care. Every verse reminded her of the joy of her life and tragedy of her death. It continued on for a long time, longer than she listened to it.

It was hard to think Jeneve was dead. Just yesterday she had been very alive, but now she was gone and buried. Buried beneath earth as dark as her eyes had been. To think her friend was under there was difficult for her to believe, but she knew that it was true. As much as she didn't want it to be true, there was nothing she could do about it.

There was no way to bring Jeneve back. She knew there was no spell worthy of mortals to know that brought back the dead. Perhaps if she had stayed with Jeneve and healed her wound, she could have lived. She didn't know whether or not she could have saved her, but it did no good thinking about it except to rub in that she had failed.

She had failed in her duty. Ivuldr had entrusted his duty of guarding Jeneve to her and she had failed in that. If she hadn't been so afraid, perhaps Ivuldr would have been more successful than her and Jeneve would have still been alive. She couldn't know, but that was all she wanted; to know if her fear had caused Jeneve's death.

 _It could not have been your fault,_ Artsanna said. She observed the funeral with the other Dragons from atop a hill beyond the gathered Riders. _You did the best you could._

 _Then why do I remember failing in what would have been easy for anyone else to avoid?_ Lynde asked, remembering when she got her sword stuck in the doorway.

 _Now that I believe was not your fault,_ Artsanna said.

 _But it was,_ Lynde said. _Another Rider would have passed through the door unhindered by their oversized sword. They would have then fought Alaric and maybe told him not to kill Jeneve; that Jeneve was a Rider. Maybe she would have lived then._

 _Are you so sure that he would?_ Artsanna asked. _He is the Corrupted One, is he not?_

Lynde thought about that and about her talk with Valvesz. She considered that Valvesz was so sure that Alaric wasn't the Corrupted One. She thought of how Karasi was willing to betray Eragon for Alaric. She considered that Eragon was in the Unknown Lands and could have visited Shruikan any time he wanted without question. She considered that such meetings gave him more of a chance to be corrupted by the black Dragon. She remembered how Valvesz and Hvirag had both said that Eragon could have been the Corrupted One without knowing it, and put it all together with one more fact in mind.

Eragon was said in the legends to have a lust for knowledge. He was a scholarly warrior, amassing knowledge of history and culture as fast as he had become skilled with magic and swordsmanship. He learned the Ancient Language and became fluent in it quickly, something Lynde had recently done and still didn't know all the words. He pursued wisdom as he had pursued Elf Queen Arya, but was more successful. Add to that the fact that Shruikan had secret knowledge known to only perhaps Galbatorix, and it gave Eragon reason to go to the remains of the black Dragon with an open mind. And his open mind would have been easy to corrupt.

Lynde thought about her theory. It seemed unlikely, but made more sense than what she had thought previously. He probably didn't know that he was the Corrupted One, so his oath in the Ancient Language had little meaning. He also didn't phrase it exactly the same—he said "He Who is Corrupted" instead of "the Corrupted One" in the Ancient Language. While it was a technicality, Kaesdir had once pointed out to her that such things were sometimes used by Elves in such ways. It was all very dangerous to think of, but she could not shake the feeling of it being true. Lynde said to Artsanna, surer than she ever had been in her life, _Eragon is the Corrupted One._

Artsanna could not believe it. _You are sure of that? It does not seem possible…_ Lynde showed Artsanna everything she believed, and then the silver Dragon did not seem so sure of herself. _I… I cannot disprove that. It seems we have been on the wrong side all this time. Are you sure that it is not just…_

 _It is no coincidence or mistake of reasoning on my part,_ Lynde said. _This is true and this truth must be tested by the only way I know how: by searching Eragon's mind for traces of Shruikan's._

Artsanna didn't like this plan. _He is very powerful. If he is the Corrupted One, there will be no reasoning with him. He will not allow any threat to the secret even he does not know._

 _That's a good point. We'll need help._

Lynde suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and was brought out of her mind into the real world. She was still at the funeral, but most of the Riders had left. She looked at the hand on her shoulder and followed it to its master. Ivuldr was there, standing silently and reverently. "I know what it is to lose someone," Ivuldr noted mournfully. "Someone who should have lived forever."

As much as Lynde didn't want to belittle his feelings, she had to ask him quickly for the continuation of all that was good and right in Alagaësia. She stood up and asked, "Are you willing to do something crazy?"

Ivuldr looked on her with surprise in his eyes. It would be nothing compared to what she was about to ask him. "And what would that be?" he asked.

She did not dare speak it aloud, so she spoke with her mind to Ivuldr. He lowered his guard and she said to him, _Eragon is the Corrupted one. We must deal with him quickly before he does too much damage._

Shock crossed his faced and colored his thoughts. _Are you mad with grief? Alaric is the Corrupted One, not Eragon._

 _And who told you that?_ Lynde asked.

Ivuldr paused for a moment. _I see your point, but as much as he may or may not be the Corrupted One, you should rest before you make any accusations._

Lynde nodded as she realized that perhaps she did need rest. It had been a very trying time for her to say the least, and she needed to slow down for a little while. "You're right," she said. "I guess I am a little tired."

As she started back towards Gil'ead, Ivuldr said, "But that doesn't mean you're wrong." She stopped to listen to him. "I'll talk with who I can trust about this. Maybe there is some truth to what you're saying."

Lynde smiled and his acceptance. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, but for all our sakes, I hope you're wrong." As Lynde continued to Gil'ead she realized that she hoped so too.


	24. Breaking a Promise

It hadn't taken long for Arlen and Alaric to set up camp, but it had taken until midafternoon for the former Rider Chief to explain everything he was willing to share about the Riders' recent conflict. Apparently Eragon's mind had been corrupted—by what he didn't say—and it was unknown what evil deeds he might do or had already done. During the Battle of Gil'ead, Alaric slew a fellow Rider and afterwards he had chosen to leave his Riders. Now here he was, talking to Arlen across a small campfire just yards away from where Tyra had disappeared. It was a lot to take in, but Arlen was used to that by now.

Arlen couldn't help but feel that things had gotten very strange in the past year or so. Things that were once vague notions to him were now truths that influenced his daily life. He had met Urgals, Dragons, Elves, Shades, and a Ra'zac and fought almost all of them within the course of a year. He had a sword that could not be destroyed by normal means, and scars from when he fought Daras Guildsward. He had met two of the First Four and Eragon. His titles were numerous and mostly had to do with killing things. On top of all that, he was trained by Murtagh in swordsmanship. If someone had told him about all thing when he was ten, he would have thought they were lying just to get him to practice his swords skills.

Alaric's story seemed believable, but there was the question if he was just making it up that Eragon was corrupted by something. He could have just been ambitious or he himself corrupted and was trying to make his cause out to be just. While he tried to be suspicious of him, it was hard considering all the good he had done during the Ra'zac crisis in Cathalorn. Without him they would have never defeated Kelshk or recovered from their victory. While his hands could bring much destruction, they would also bring healing when needed. He decided that Alaric was not making anything up and to trust him.

Of course Arlen had to have a response to his long story. It was only polite when someone took so much time out of their day to do such a thing. Arlen decided to look Alaric in the eye and say, "That's very troubling and I hope it all works out, but right now I have to get home."

"I know," Alaric replied. "I just thought you should know that I was safe and that I will take you the rest of the way to Cathalorn if you want me to."

Arlen would have jumped at the chance, but then he started thinking about Tyra. If she really wanted Mor'ranr, then she would look for him wherever she could and fight whoever she needed to in order to get it. While to some it might have seemed like going back to Cathalorn where there were so many strong warriors was a good idea, Arlen knew how dangerous a Shade was. Tyra could probably cut through every last man, woman, and child to get to Mor'ranr if she didn't use magic instead. It was safer to be around a small group with magic than a large group without magic when dealing with a Shade, so he came to an unfortunate conclusion.

He didn't want to ask this. He didn't want to undo his promise to his family and Leonie, but it was something that had to be done for their safety. He asked Alaric with great hesitation, "Could you bring me to the Riders?"

Alaric was shocked at his request, which was understandable. "Did your encounter with Tyra leave you mad? You wanted to go home a moment ago and I was trying to get away from the Riders, to keep them from my bad influence."

"I know that, but I want to protect my family, and the best way to do that is to stay away from them until Tyra's dead or I am," Arlen explained. "The only people who Tyra would not dare attack are the Riders."

"Then go to Eragon's side; it's safer."

Arlen shook his head. "You said he was corrupted, and that just doesn't sit well with me. I wouldn't go to him for protection even if Shruikan came from the dead and started attacking me." Alaric made a strange face at that last comment, one that Arlen decided not to question.

He knew that Alaric had little reason to offer him protection or rejoin his Riders, so he tried to give him one. "If the situation is as bad as you say, then everyone needs to band together to face Eragon. It doesn't matter their abilities or their past as Eragon will make everyone's future dark if he is allowed to continue. Even if you won't lead the Riders, you must fight beside them." He shuddered as he said his next words—the words that broke his promise even further. "And if you fight, then I will."

Alaric had a look of astonishment on his face. What Arlen had said surprised even him, but it had to be done for both the good of his family and the good of the Riders. While Arlen doubted he would be much good in a battle where Dragons and magic were concerned, he could at least fight them sword to sword and get Alaric to do the same. But a small part of him wanted Alaric to say no to his proposal if only so that he didn't have to physically break his promise.

Arlen soon lost his astonishment and his face twisted into anguish. "The Riders don't deserve me. I killed a woman, a sister Rider, and that carries with it a steep punishment that no one should avoid. I would only make the cause weaker by staying."

Arlen shook his head. "You made a mistake. You killed someone in a moment of anger. While I don't know what it must be like to have guilt weigh you down like that, the least you could do is punish yourself more productively." Arlen thought for a moment as Alaric looked at him questioningly. "What is the sentence for one who has killed a Rider?"

"Death usually," Alaric noted.

"Then meet your end on the battlefield," Arlen said. He remembered Emmerich and the redemption his sacrifice brought him. "If you die, you die in atonement. If you live, you can be judged then."

Alaric looked to the ground for a long time without saying a word. He was probably deep in thought and considering what to do. For a moment Arlen thought he might be talking to Magnora, but he remembered that the Rider Chief and his Dragon were not on the best terms and decided to forgo such thoughts. Eventually Alaric looked up and said, "Alright, I'll do it. But when I do this, you had better be with me through it all, all the way up to fighting Eragon."

Arlen forced himself to smile in agreement. "I hope I don't get the chance to, but I will."

Alaric nodded and looked behind himself to the east. "I suppose there's no time to waste. The Riders will be over there so we might as well be too." He looked back at Arlen and said, "It's time to break camp."

The fire was quenched and the two men mounted Magnora. The Dragon's wings flapped and they rose high in the air. The Dragon's red-gold snout pointed east and they flew away from where the sun undoubtedly set. They would fly until they found the other Riders or they found the three of them.

Arlen thought about his promise and how he had broken it. He promised to come back as quickly as he could, to not become involved in another adventure, but now… Now he was nothing but a liar. As much as it was to protect them, he still felt bad about not keeping his word.

He wanted to get word to his family, to make sure they knew what he was doing and why. They might think he was dead if he was away long enough, and he just couldn't let them go through that. He had to tell them somehow, but he could see no way of doing it now that he was alongside the fugitive Riders. If only he was a great lord or noble, he could get word to them then. But for now he would just have to hope that they didn't give him up for dead too soon.

As they flew towards the horizon, Arlen hoped that this would be his final adventure. That this, out of all the times he had left Cathalorn, would be his last. He hoped that he could return, that he could stop fighting for anyone but his family and neighbors, and he could live out the rest of his days in the peace of his home. If only wishing made things true, because he was more likely to die in the upcoming battle than to do as he so wanted to do. He would just have to wait and see.


	25. Reunion

Arlen, Alaric, and Magnora found the rogue Dragon Riders the day after they had set out. There were six Dragons in the group and were flying high to northeast away from Gil'ead. Magnora flew beside them and after they noticed the red-gold Dragon they began to descend. They landed, and after dismounting, Alaric said to Arlen, "Wait by Magnora. I'll explain everything to them and we'll be on our way."

Arlen did as he was told. He didn't know all of what might be said, and there could be Riders secrets being discussed in the meeting. Alternatively, it could be boring and he didn't really want that, so he abstained from following the Rider Chief. He sat at the base of a hill across from Magnora and proceeded to wait for Alaric to come back.

He couldn't think of much to do while he waited. He didn't know much about Magnora, and while Artsanna was quite the conversationalist, he doubted she was the same. She probably didn't want to talk to a random Human who happened to be good at fighting with a metal stick, so he didn't bother her. So he decided to sit back and tried to think of strategies for defeating possible opponents.

He was just lying around when he heard a rustling in the grass nearby. It could have been an animal or perhaps Alaric coming back. He looked to the source to determine what or who it might be. He was surprised to see an Elf woman standing there with dark hair.

He was surprised to see anyone other than Alaric considering he and the other Riders were having a meeting, and this Elf was surprising in her own way. She didn't have a sword at her belt but a quiver of arrows and carried a longbow made of a dull brown wood he thought looked strange for a bow. Her face had wider cheekbones than most Elves he had seen—which wasn't many—and overall had a very Human look to her. Her garb was also very worn and dirtied unlike most of the Elves' clothing her had seen, except for a long red cloak. The only thing that gave her away as an Elf were her pointed ears that stuck out of her long, straight, black hair. Her body movements and the cloak made him think she was Rose, but it couldn't be her could it?

She spoke in a voice that was not musical or fine as most Elves' tended to, but instead spoke in a more familiar voice. "Well, Arlen, fancy meeting you here," she said in a level, uncompromising voice.

For a moment he considered it was Rose again, but that couldn't be so. Rose looked like a Human, and had chosen that instead of being like an Elf for her own reasons. Why would she go back to being an Elf?

He looked her in the eye and said carefully, "You may know my name, Elf, but I don't know yours. Could I at least be on equal terms with you?"

The Elf cocked an eyebrow and frowned. Then a flash of realization crossed her face and said, "Right, you wouldn't know me; I look Elven now." That sentence alone made Arlen realize something. "The name I go by now is Lilyon, but you know me as Rose."

Arlen was surprised but not in a bad way. Here was someone he thought he would never encounter again, now standing before him with a new face. Here was Rose, one of the people he had fought alongside through many a battle. Here was someone he could talk to, but first he had to ask, "What are you doing here?"

Rose shrugged and said, "I figured the Riders could use my bow in their quest for justice. And you?"

"The same but a little more," Arlen said. "I wanted to help, but I'm also running from Tyra." After a pause and no reaction from Rose, he added, "She's not dead."

"Oh I figured there was always a chance she wasn't," Rose noted confidently. "I just didn't know until now."

Arlen frowned at her and said in a not entirely serious fashion, "Thank you for telling me."

Rose frowned at first, and then did something quite unlike her. She smiled. "I can't believe it's been so long."

Arlen cocked an eyebrow. "It's only been a few months. I would think that's like a few days to an Elf."

Rose shook her head. "You have a lot to learn about Elves." Arlen accepted that as a truth and chose not to talk about it anymore.

To Arlen's surprise, Alaric came back from his meeting with the Riders not long after he had left. "That was quick," Arlen commented.

Alaric nodded to him. "The Riders have accepted me back as a warrior and Magnora with me. You've also been welcomed into our group."

"Good," Arlen gladly said. "Now what's our next move?"

Alaric looked to both him and Rose and said, "What I'm about to tell you is a closely guarded secret. This was only known to members of the First Four, and even then, one pair was never told." Arlen didn't know why it could have been that one of the First Four Pairs weren't told, but he didn't ask either. "I trust you both, so I tell you this now: we are going to a Rider base at Marna. It was built with magic over many years by we of the First Four as a safe place to go in times of rebellion. We never thought it would be us rebelling, but it works just fine for our purposes."

Arlen understood most of that, but he did have one question. "Where's and what's Marna?"

"Marna is a hill to the west of Isenstar Lake, the lake north of Gil'ead," Rose explained. "I've only seen its name on a map, and even then I've never heard of anything interesting happening there."

Arlen was a little disappointed by that. A hill that nothing happened at was on a map that Cathalorn wasn't on? That was a little insulting to him, but he accepted that sometimes strange and insulting things just happen by accident.

It still interested him what their battle plan was so he asked, "Why are we going there?"

"To hide," Alaric replied. "We can't fight Eragon yet, so we need a safe place to rest that few could know about."

"Yet? So there's a plan to fight Eragon?" Arlen inquired.

"Yes, but that's all they were willing to tell me," Alaric stated. "I can guess they're trying to rally the other nations against Eragon, considering Kaesdir, Hvirag, and Ragni are gone."

While he could have asked who Hvirag and Ragni were, he instead asked, "Who's in charge?"

"Haldthin."

Arlen was fine with Haldthin being in charge. He'd seen Artsanna be as intelligent and thoughtful as anyone, so if one Dragon was capable of that, any Dragon could be capable of it. Haldthin struck him as an alright sort when he met the Dragon first, so he was fine having him be the leader.

Rose did not seem as accepting as Arlen though. "I can't believe they chose a Dragon to lead," she said curtly.

This triggered a voice to boom in Arlen's mind, _If you do not believe a Dragon can lead, then you do not have to follow._ Arlen had heard the voice before—it was Magnora—but not as angry. _Leave our rebellion if having a two-legs lead you is so important._

Arlen expected Alaric to yell something at Magnora, considering their rocky relationship, but he was quiet. Instead of correcting or arguing with the Dragon, he kept his peace as if he agreed with her. He didn't even seem angry at her but angry at Rose instead. It surprised and befuddled Arlen, but he would not ask about it so as not to spark a larger argument.

Rose looked to the Dragon and bowed. "My apologies," Rose said through gritted tech. "I had not considered that sometimes a Dragon can be a better leader than a two-legs."

Magnora's voice seemed pleased as she said, _Good. Now perhaps I won't throw you off when I'm flying._

With that unpleasant thought still on Arlen's mind, Alaric motioned for him and Rose to follow him up the rope ladder to Magnora's saddle. Arlen decided to go along with it since he wasn't the one who upset her and Rose soon followed. They tied themselves onto the saddle and prepared to go up.

Magnora leapt into the air and beat her wings loudly. Around them, other Dragons did similarly. The chorus of Dragon wings was deafening and they soon flew up into the clouds to be seen no more by those on the ground. Once high enough up, they stopped and glided for a while, only flapping their wings occasionally to keep from falling down any farther.

Arlen looked at them, realizing how many of them there were. There were perhaps seven Dragons and six Riders; not good odds. In addition to that there were Arlen and Rose, but he didn't think they would be of as much help in battle. While against an army of men they might fare better, they were fighting Eragon and the rest of the Order of the Dragon Riders. He realized that they definitely needed the help of the Elves or the Dwarves before they had any chance of victory.

He hoped he would survive this conflict to return to his family. It seemed unlikely now that they would win. Alaric's advice about looking to Eragon for protection was becoming increasingly wise to Arlen now, but he couldn't back out now. This had to be done by someone, and now it seemed less likely that they would run out of someones in the coming battle. He could only hope and fight to survive what might be ahead for them.


	26. Confrontation

Lynde, Ivuldr, and their new ally Volyeth marched up the stairs in their battle armor to Eragon's room in the tower. They went up the tight stairway for the purpose of confronting Eragon about the possibility of him being the Corrupted One. As much as Lynde feared they might be right and he would try to kill them, she knew that if he killed them, he would have to explain to his followers why, which was something he would have a hard time doing truthfully. It would be easier if they had the power of the Elders, but they were some of the newest Riders of the Order and weaker for that. They would still face him though as it was their duty to both the Order and to Alagaësia.

Lynde looked to Volyeth who had joined their cause just that morning. She was there when Eragon had spoken what he believed to be the truth in the Ancient Language and was convinced even before that. But she had also been there when Lynde explained to her what she believed to be the truth and had listened carefully. While Lynde was unsure if Volyeth was just playing along to betray them or if she truly believed what she and Ivuldr had said, for now she was all they could get in terms of allies.

No other Rider that Lynde or Ivuldr had spoken to was convinced that Eragon was actually the Corrupted One. While they had tried to make their case to each and every one, none of them believed them. It was also possible that they just didn't have the nerve to face Eragon, seeing as how he was so powerful, but Lynde didn't blame them at all. She only hoped that they had at least kept their word and not told Eragon anything of this.

Lynde was ready to draw Iet'baen as she and the others entered Eragon's quarters over the objections of the servant in front. They marched towards the desk in the middle of the room where Eragon sat, and readied themselves for battle as they stopped a few feet from the desk. He looked up at them curiously and asked, "What might you be here for?"

Lynde summoned her courage and said, "We are here to test you on whether you may be the Corrupted One or not."

Eragon frowned deeply and stood up. "You believe I'm capable of such a thing?" he asked hostilely. "You are fools to think so. I swore to two of you that I was not."

"Even the Ancient Language can have lies if the speaker thinks they are true," Ivuldr said. Lynde was glad he was the one who said it since it was his first language. It might come off as rude or impertinent if she had said it, being a Human, but an Elf would be an authority on the subject. If anyone could convince Eragon of this point, it was an Elf and Ivuldr was perfect for that.

Eragon remained unconvinced though. "You three are simply misled by grief," Eragon stated in a matter-of-fact way. "I am no more the Corrupted One than I am a Dwarf."

Suddenly Ivuldr contacted Lynde with his mind. The music of his voice was nothing compared to the music of his thoughts. She tried not to listen too closely though as she and Ivuldr had something to do at the moment. _He was made a part of the Dwarven clans by King Hrothgar after the Battle of Tronjheim. If there is any part of him that knows that he is evil, then that part may have just tried to tell us such._

Lynde could not disagree, but there was still something that eluded them. _We need proof,_ she told Ivuldr. _A slip of the tongue or a forgotten memory doesn't make him evil. We need to go into his mind to find that out._

She expected an objection from Ivuldr or perhaps Artsanna who listened to her thoughts intently, but neither spoke against her. Instead Ivuldr said, Then _I will do it for the good of_ _Alagaësia._

Lynde thanked him and turned her attention back to Eragon. She mustered her courage again and said, "Eragon, you must submit yourself to a test. We will search through your mind for anything that feels like Shruikan's doing, and if we find any, then you must be corrupted."

Eragon frowned. "And why should I submit myself to such a test?"

"Because," Ivuldr said, "your Riders are unsure of you. You refused to be test by the Elders, and that was what sparked our current conflict. If you were to take this test, it would set many minds at ease and might even bring an end to all hostilities. It is the easiest way out." Lynde decided that she couldn't have put it any better herself or that Artsanna could have.

Eragon was still unconvinced. "My reasons still stand," he said. "In fact, they are more relevant now. While I might someday entrust my secrets to the Elders, I will not reveal them to any of you three or your Dragons. You are all inexperience Riders, and many of you have had history of rebellion and treachery. Lynde and Artsanna chose to live outside the Riders for some time. Volyeth and Glideith did not fight them or try to talk them down when they encountered them. And Ivuldr and Almei abandoned their duty to protect Jeneve so that Lynde and Artsanna could take it over. I can trust none of you, so I will not. Leave now before my patience runs thin."

Lynde searched her memories to see if there was any truth to his accusation only to be disappointed. Everything he had said was true, and there was no reason to trust any of them. Trust was earned, she knew this, and if they had earned none with Eragon, then they couldn't go into his mind without a fight—one that they would surely lose. As much as she didn't want any of it to be true, it was and she could do nothing about it.

Lynde paused for a moment to sneer at Eragon before turning on her heel and marching out. Eragon had defeated her—that was clear. They might not have won this battle, but she would find a way next time.

As the three of them went down the stairs, Ivuldr said, "Sometimes I regret the good things I do. Now's not one of those times."

Lynde glanced at him. "What? Are you thinking of how you let me protect Jeneve instead of you?" The memory of her failure came back again. Now, instead of overwhelming sorrow, there was just an emptiness that could not be filled. She worried about her lack of feelings, but didn't let that show.

Ivuldr shook his head at her. "Yes, but I don't regret letting you do it. You did as well as I could in that scenario."

Lynde scoffed. "You wouldn't get your sword stuck in the door or let it almost drag you down out the window."

Ivuldr nodded in conceit, but said, "I would probably be just as ineffective though. Or do you forget who was the better fighter?"

Lynde remembered well. "I was."

"Correct," Ivuldr replied. "Now stop feeling so guilty and start figuring out a way to catch Eragon in his lie."

"No," Volyeth said resolutely. Lynde and Ivuldr stopped to look at the Elf woman. "I won't do it. There's no way that I'll go up against Eragon again."

"But you have to," Lynde pleaded. "If you leave, Eragon will think he has beaten us."

"So far, it looks like he has," Volyeth replied. "Now let me leave."

As Volyeth moved past them and down the staircase, Lynde sighed. "Now what do we do?" she murmured to Ivuldr.

"I don't know," he replied. "All we have is a suspicion and no real evidence. We should just give up and hope the Elders manage to bring him down."

"No we can't," Lynde said as she glared at him. "The Elders can't outfight him, not with so many Dragon Riders against them. We must bring him to justice from within."

"How?" Ivuldr asked. "There's nothing we can do."

Before Lynde could reply, an alarm bell rang across the fort. Its piercing notes could mean only one thing: an attack. Lynde and Ivuldr didn't say anything to each other but ran down the stairs to prepare for battle.


	27. The Burning

Lynde ran out into the yard with Ivuldr trailing behind her. All about the fort were Riders mounting their Dragons and taking to the skies. Soldiers prepared for battle, but Lynde doubted how much they could help against Alaric's Riders. The strangest thing was that there were no Dragons on the horizon no matter where Lynde looked. As the warning bell rang she wondered who was attacking them.

Artsanna was in the air already and showed Lynde what was happening. A huge army flying the flag of the Empire marched on Gil'ead. Lynde wondered why the army was there and why they were being greeted with such an armed welcome, so she decided to find out.

Artsanna swept onto the ground as did Almei—Ivuldr's white-gold Dragon. Lynde mounted Artsanna as Ivuldr did with Almei and they soon took off. They flew over the city to where the other Dragon Riders were forming up; to the road the Empire's army was taking to Gil'ead. Lynde hoped someone there knew what was going on.

Lynde looked for someone who might know what was going on just by the size of their Dragon. A larger Dragon usually meant an older one, meaning seniority within the Order. She halted her search as Saphira came from the city bearing Eragon on her back. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be the leader of the Dragon Riders.

Lynde considered her prior accusation of Eragon being the Corrupted One and how it meant he might not tell Lynde what was going on. She had questioned his authority and he would not forget that so soon. She and Artsanna decided it was better to watch him from a distance rather than directly interact with him. Artsanna and Almei followed Saphira down as the sapphire Dragon went in to land.

Saphira landed at the head of the Dragon Riders. Artsanna and Almei took positions near Saphira, but not too close. In front of them was the Empire's army and behind them was the city of Gil'ead. It seemed to Artsanna that a confrontation was inevitable, but Lynde hoped it could be resolved peacefully at the very least.

The Empire's army stopped except for one man on horseback. He was a grayed man from where Lynde stood, and wore the Empire's white and purple across his proud chest. He stopped his white horse between the army and the Dragons Riders and called, "Eragon! You've done enough."

Eragon's response was quick and pointed. "I have yet to do much of anything, Jörmundur. I have been putting down a few traitors, yes, but not the one I meant to deal with for so long. I thought Nasuada was stalling when she said that it would take another month to find an heir, but I didn't know she needed that time to find Murtagh instead."

The man threw back his head and scoffed. "My queen is no traitor. You are the traitor for turning your back on your duties as peacemaker."

Lynde thought for a moment as she tried to place where she had heard the name "Jörmundur" before. Without help from Artsanna she remembered that Jörmundur had been the commander of the force that tried to take Petrøvya during the war in Surda. He had been in the Varden long before that, and since then she had heard him described as High Queen Nasuada's most trusted general. If he was here, then it stood to reason that Eragon had made an enemy of Queen Nasuada.

Eragon leaned forward in his saddle and yelled at Jörmundur, "I am a peacemaker! To let a challenge against the Dragon Riders stand would be to invite war and bloodshed the like of which has not been seen since the Fall. The Dragon Riders must be seen as strong if we are to properly mediate the kingdoms, and to be seen as strong we must accept challenges such as these. You go back to Nasuada and tell her that if she is going to continue her reign, I shall bring every loyal Dragon Rider to shower fire upon her. I shall tear her off her marble throne and take the crown from her head. But I will not kill her. I will do worse than kill her; I will shame her by casting her out and letting her watch as I make the Empire into what it should be—a humble protectorate of the Dragon Riders."

Lynde was afraid of Eragon now. Such a speech inspired such feelings. He was almost foaming at the mouth and Lynde was almost about to get off Artsanna and run for the hills. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that it would do no good to run from Eragon. No one could run from this terror.

Jörmundur drew his sword and pointed it at Eragon. "I have been sent to make sure the Dragon Riders are gone from Gil'ead," he said. "If I am to fail at the cost of my own life, so be it. But let it never be said that I, Jörmundur, was a coward or a traitor. Let it be said that I fought for queen and country no matter the odds and no matter the cost."

Lynde was shocked at Jörmundur. No one could defeat this many Dragon Riders, not even with an army such as his. The only explanation for his near suicidal behavior was either an oath in the Ancient Language or a very foolish plan. In either case, she thought that in the same position she would run before sacrificing her own life and the lives of so many soldiers to the madness of it all.

For a moment Lynde thought that Eragon would spare Jörmundur's army. He didn't seem to have any response to the general, nor did Jörmundur seem willing to make the first move. They just watched each other in silent anticipation. While it could have been just her own foolish hope, she believed that neither one would be the one to attack.

The silence was broken by Saphira giving a mighty roar and breathing fire onto Jörmundur. Both he and his horse were incinerated before they could get off a yelp. Some of the men behind him were not so lucky and began to yell bloodcurdling screams. Eragon shouted, "Attack!" and a couple of the Dragons around him leapt into action, flying over and breathing fire onto the soldiers below. Lynde could not help but watch the battle—no the massacre—in horror.

She turned away, shielding her eyes from the carnage, and saw the other Dragon Riders. Most of them hadn't attacked when Eragon had ordered them to. They were too busy gaping at the destruction before them. It was at this moment when Lynde believed that some of them had begun to doubt the choice they made in siding with Eragon. It was now that the Riders saw what sort of monster Eragon had become in his exile.

Lynde was more shocked at the Riders and Dragons who had attacked. Their enemy had not struck first and had no chance against their might. There were five pairs in total who followed Eragon's order. They were all of differing ages and seniority; no common link between them. While she didn't know their names, she knew that apparently loyalty was more valuable to them than morality.

The five pairs along with Eragon and Saphira made short work of the army. Within an hour the screaming had stopped and the Dragons rested. The field was aflame, but Riders went to work putting out the fires. Not a single soldier who had been under Jörmundur's command was alive and little trace of them was left. No horse or beast of burden from the army could be seen. All that was left was ash and fire, and soon not even fire remained.

Lynde reckoned that they could have left some of the soldiers alive if only because they would have retreated. After all, when faced with the prospect of fighting giant fire breathing beasts, most would flee. While Lynde did not see the Dragons as that, the soldiers would have and would have run if they had been given the chance. But they had not and she could not imagine why.

Lynde looked to Eragon. He did not notice her, but she glared at him intently. She only had stories of Galbatorix to go on, but she believed that he would have either called this battle a fair fight or a statement. Such men displayed their power for no reason but for others to fear it. While it kept some in line, it made the brave even more determined to see him fall. Did Eragon have such intentions as he burned this army or was he just overzealous in the defense of his stronghold? Lynde did not know, but she did not care; she only cared about stopping this from happening again.

Lynde knew that she could not defeat Eragon in battle just as much as Artsanna could not defeat Saphira. It would take a far more powerful Dragon Rider pair to do it and even they might want some help. The only option was the Elders, but they would not attack again if their opponents were still so numerous. She would have to find a way to separate Eragon and Saphira from the other Dragon Riders so that they could be brought down, but she did not know how.

Lynde's thoughts were interrupted by Eragon's shouts. "Queen Nasuada has made a grave error," Eragon declared. "She has reminded me of her lack of respect for the Riders. While Alaric and the other Elders may attack again, we must eliminate one enemy at a time. We do not know where Alaric and the others have fled, but we do know where Nasuada is. Therefore, before the next full moon she shall be removed from the throne for the good of Alagaësia. Who will ride with me when the time comes to do this vital act?"

The Riders who had accompanied Eragon to destroy the army spoke up first, each declaring their loyalty and the loyalty of their Dragon to Eragon. Their names were numerous and Lynde did not recognize any of them. She decided that she did not need to know their names only their allegiance. Soon other Riders declared their loyalty, but not as enthusiastically. Not all the Riders did, and especially not Lynde. When all was silent, many of the Riders had yet to say anything of loyalty, but she did not know if Eragon had noticed that.

Eragon simply raised his sword and said, "Good. We will leave within two weeks. Until then, make ready for the journey. It will be a long flight and we must be ready for battle by the end of it."

The Dragons soon began flying back to Gil'ead with their Riders on their backs. Their wings blew up clouds of ash that made Lynde cover her face with her sleeve for fear of breathing any of it in. After most of the Dragons had left, Lynde and Artsanna were left alone with only their fellow conspirators Ivuldr, Volyeth, and their Dragons.

Ivuldr spoke first. "After today, Eragon cannot be allowed to continue leading us," he declared. "We must find a way to remove him from power."

"I… agree," Volyeth stated, much to Lynde's surprise. "Eragon has become a menace and must be stopped."

"I'm glad we're in agreement," Lynde said. "But how are we going to do this?"

After a long time of silent consideration between the three Riders, Artsanna said, _We shall do as the hunter does; wait and watch._ And that was good enough for Lynde and her fellow Riders.


	28. Marna

It did not take long for Alaric's Riders to arrive at Marna with Arlen and Rose—or Lilyon as she liked to be called now. From the outside it looked like just another grassy hill, if a bit large. Arlen didn't question why he couldn't see the Rider base. He'd been surprised by magic enough times to know that even if he couldn't see it, he could trust Alaric's word that it was there.

Magnora and the other Dragons landed at the foot of the hill. There the Riders dismounted, so Arlen figured he should too. He followed Alaric with Rose to the base of the hill. "So where's the base?" Rose asked.

"Through here," Alaric replied. Soon enough, Alaric began to speak a spell. Arlen really didn't care what the words were or what they sounded like so he didn't pay attention to them. Once the spell was done, part of the hill opened up like a pair of doors large enough to fit a Dragon twice the size of Magnora through.

Through the doors was a large cavern so long its end disappeared into shadow. Arlen noted its remarkably smooth and boxy looking walls. Alaric motioned for everyone to follow him in and no one objected. They eventually got to a point where they couldn't see any farther into the darkness. "Garjzla," Alaric said and several lights were lit all throughout the cavern. They were probably the flameless lamps he had seen occasionally on his travels.

Now Arlen could see what the darkness had concealed. The cavern—or hallway as he realized it was—steadily grew lower, leading deep beneath the ground, as if they weren't already deep enough. Alaric led them down deeper into the base as the doors closed behind them.

Arlen felt out of place with all these Dragons around. They moved and looked like beasts, but he knew they were as smart as he was. They were parts of great legends and the like, while folks like himself faded into the background of such things. The Riders were no exception, but at least some of them looked vaguely normal—at least to his eyes. Actually there were only one or two Riders who looked really normal among them, but he didn't feel as strange around them as the Dragons. He didn't know what it was, but when it came to Dragons, he felt more comfortable around smaller numbers, and that did not include groups of seven.

As they came into a large chamber, Arlen had something new to focus on. The chamber was huge, being able to fit perhaps the entirety of Cathalorn inside if the houses could and were stacked on top of each other. The Dragons actually looked small compared to the room, excluding the Magnora and Haldthin, who didn't look out of place at all. Arlen felt as if he had wandered into a giant's fortress.

Alaric spoke up, his voice echoing through the room. "Quarters for the Elders are on the far side. You can claim any room on the sides except the storerooms which are labeled in all the languages a Rider might read. Does everyone understand?"

Arlen said, "I understand" which just about everyone else said too or something similar, though he didn't hear the Dragons replies.

"Good," Alaric said. "Now let's get settled in." The Dragons and Riders dispersed and each went to rooms whose doors were usually large enough for the Dragon to squeeze through.

Arlen didn't know where to go. He could choose any room he wanted, but he didn't know which one he wanted. He decided to go with the most strategically sound one he could find, which was right next to the entrance.

Arlen went to see the room he'd chosen. Rose had picked a room nearby, which he noted only in passing. His room had a large door and was very spacious inside as well. Large enough for a Dragon, he figured. There was a bed that looked like it could use dusting, a small basin without any water in it, a door that he assumed led to a privy, and not much else. He decided the room was fine, but would need a little tidying up.

It was about then that he heard a knock on his open door and he turned around to see who was there. He saw Rose there, though it took a moment for him to realize that she was Rose and not some Elf woman he didn't know. He tried to ask as politely as he could, "What is it?"

She shrugged, her expression passive, and said, "I don't know. How are you holding up?"

Arlen found the question strange coming from Rose. He didn't remember Rose being so concerned for people's wellbeing, let alone his own. He replied, "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that I've been on the other end of this sort of thing," Rose noted. "I waited for news from my sister when she went to war. When none came I got worried, but she usually sent me a letter after a while. It helped assure me she wasn't dead. Perhaps you should send a letter to your family telling them you're alright."

Arlen considered it for a moment, but soon realized why it wasn't possible. "Who would carry it to Cathalorn? I'm no nobleman; I don't have pages at my beck and call."

"Yes, but you have me," Rose said. Arlen didn't understand what she meant by that. "I can find an animal, capture it, attach a letter to it, give it an urge like nothing else to go into Du Weldenvarden to find one of my few remaining friends still there, and from there my friend will carry your letter to Cathalorn if they remember that they still owe me a favor. It's as simple as that."

Arlen frowned a little but felt himself smile just as much. "You call that simple?"

"I could fire an arrow over there, but I might overshoot," Rose said with a completely serious tone. Arlen laughed at her joke, hoping it was a joke and she couldn't actually do that.

"Alright, I'll write a letter," he said, still laughing a little from Rose's previous statement.

"Good," Rose replied. "I'll catch a squirrel." After Rose left and closed the door, Arlen laughed again. He wasn't sure how serious she was, but it was still funny to him.

* * *

Arlen was about done with his letter by the time Rose got back. He was no poet and he didn't exercise his writing skills so his letter might not have been the best worded or written, but hopefully it would say to his family what he wanted it to say. He read it back to himself carefully.

 _To Mom, to Ehren, and to Leonie_

 _I've come across an old enemy that not even Cathalorn could face. I would only endanger you by going home, so I've sought shelter with the Riders for now. But there's also something important going on that I should be a part of, and while it might be dangerous, I've decided to live with that danger. I've thought it out carefully, and no matter what you say I won't go back on it. I just thought you should know since I could be delayed for a while._

 _I want you to know that I love you all deeply and I'm doing this just as much if not more for you than I'm doing it for me. The only thing we can do at this point is hope that I return safely if not quickly. I hold you all in my heart and will think of you and of Cathalorn often._

 _Love Arlen-_

Arlen hoped it wasn't too emotional, but he accepted that perhaps emotion was necessary for this kind of letter. He hoped that they would understand, but knew that they might not.

Rose strode over to where he sat on the floor where he had written his letter and he looked up at her. He folded up the letter and prepared to hand it over. He was hesitant to give her the letter, since this could be the only hope he had for contacting his family. Of course he got over it, seeing as how _she_ was his only hope of contacting his family. He handed her the letter and she took it and the quill and ink.

Rose went over to a wall and wrote something on the outside of his letter. He stood up and opened his mouth to object, but before he could she said, "Don't worry, Arlen. This is just so my friend knows where to send it." Arlen, now that he understood, closed his mouth and chose to be silent. Once she was done writing, she said, "Now, Arlen, I'll send this out. It should arrive at Cathalorn within the month."

Arlen nodded and said, "Thank you for doing this."

Rose nodded back and left without a word. Arlen hoped this letter would go through alright and wouldn't be lost in a storm or its carrier killed by hunters. But that was out of his hands so he decided not to waste energy on things he couldn't change—Artsanna taught him that one. Now all he could do was wait.


	29. The Imprisoned

The heels of Lynde's riding boots clacked along on the gray cobblestone floor of the prison. It was not just any prison though; it was the one where Eragon held the Riders who were captured during the battle of Gil'ead. She had heard Eragon himself was once a prisoner here, held captive by the Shade Durza during the time of Galbatorix's Empire. The management had changed, but the kind of prisoner had not.

Lynde could into the cells by the small barred windows in the doors. Most had no occupant, but others had criminals from the city or soldiers being disciplined. She was not interested in murderers or thieves though; she was looking for the Riders, but was yet to find any.

Even if Lynde could find them, they might not have been in any condition to talk. She had been told by the warden that the Riders were being given a special drug to inhibit their magical abilities. A more potent drug was being given to their Dragons outside to make them tamer and their thoughts blurrier. The Riders would have trouble thinking, but she hoped they would at least listen to her.

Ivuldr had suggested that they might get help from one or two of the captured Riders, if they were willing. While Volyeth was unsure of such a plan, Lynde thought it was the best they could hope for and went with that for now. The first obstacle had been to get permission to see the imprisoned Riders, but apparently the guards didn't have any orders to keep Riders allied with Eragon out, so that was easy. The hard part was actually finding the Riders.

She rounded a corner and found a door that had more reinforcements and locks than the others. Lynde leaned in to see who the occupant was, but the window of this door was smaller too. She soon found out why as a horn came through the bars of the window and she jumped back. The horn backed up and tried again and again to skewer her face, but she was too far away for it to do anything to her.

The horns eventually backed up and stayed in the cell and now Lynde could see who the horns were attached to. He was an Urgal garbed in clothes similar to a Human's. She knew of only one or two other Urgals who did that and they were Riders, so she figured he might be a Rider as well. She decided to ask, "Are you one of the Riders who was captured?"

He became hostile at her words. He banged his shoulder against the door, and while the frame shook, it did not break. "Fight me, Draji!" he shouted. "A true warrior would have granted me an honorable death, not this caging of my soul."

Lynde backed off even more before a voice came from a cell behind her saying, "Calm down, Zahgrez. It won't do any good." Lynde turned around to the other cell to see the tanned face of a woman staring out the window at the Urgal. She looked Surdan, or at least what she remembered Surdans looking like. He accent was definitely Surda. "Just give up."

"No!" the Urgal shouted back. "If my captors believe they have beaten me, I will prove them wrong. They cannot beat one of Urgal blood!"

"Sure they can't," the woman replied. "That's why the Urgals are the ones running everything and conquered everything. Oh wait."

"Do not talk to me, Sorcha," the Urgal growled. "You surrendered."

"It was either surrendering or fighting an entire battalion without Graelmoc," the woman said.

"You should have fought the battalion; at least then you would have had honor."

Before the two of them could continue, Lynde said to both of them, "Stop!" They quieted and Lynde continued. "I came here to talk to you. I need your help."

The woman laughed while the Urgal scoffed. "You think we can help anyone?" the woman said. "You think…? Ha, ha, ha. You're a fool if you think so. The last thing anyone needs is the two Riders who got captured to come and mess everything up. No one needs the two failures Sorcha and Zahgrez. Nobody… needs… us…" Lynde looked in and saw that now the woman—Sorcha she believed her name was—lying on the floor, crying. What had the drugs done to her? "Who needs the help of someone who can't even help themselves?"

"I can help you," Lynde said through the window. "I can make them stop feeding you the drugs."

"No," Sorcha replied. "Go away. I can't, so you should enjoy your freedom. Alaric's probably glad we're not with him anymore."

Lynde decided that these Riders were not in any shape to fight battles or do anything. She could not discern what was the drug and what was the Rider beneath, but she could tell it would be a long time before they were of help to anyone. She decided to leave the prison and head out.

"Wait," Sorcha said after Lynde had taken a few steps away. Lynde stopped. "Can you tell me something?"

"What do you want to know?" Lynde replied.

"Can you tell me if anyone has a silver Dragon around here?" Sorcha asked.

Lynde was surprised by Sorcha's question, particularly because of Artsanna and the color of her scales. "Yes," Lynde answered. "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I saw a silver Dragon in my dreams," Sorcha said. "She had burning red eyes and a tail she whipped around like a mace. She was hard to spot on a cloudy day, but when you could see her she was gorgeous to behold. Nothing like my Graelmoc though, but still… Something happened to her though. Something happened to the silver Dragon. I remember there was sorrow, but I don't remember why she was sad."

Lynde was now more intrigued by Sorcha's ramblings. Sorrow for what; she had to know! Lynde leaned her face into the window and saw Sorcha sitting against the far wall. Lynde urged her, "Why was the silver Dragon sad?"

"I don't know, I…" she started, but stopped with a look of shock in her eyes. It soon turned to dread. "I saw you. Now I know where I've seen you before; in my dreams. You…" She blanched. "Neither of you will be the same."

"The same?" Lynde queried. "What do you mean?"

"I… I…" Sorcha started. "I don't know but… there will be fall before winter and winter before spring. I don't know."

Lynde soon decided that these were the ramblings of a Rider who was half mad if not fully. She was in no condition to speak of anything, so Lynde left her.

As Lynde walked out of there, she contacted Artsanna. _Artsanna, we won't be getting any help from them._

 _Too bad,_ Artsanna replied. _I went to their Dragons and they're not in any condition to talk. I suppose now there's nothing to do but wait._

 _Wait for what?_ Lynde asked.

 _Wait for Alaric to come down and crush them._

Lynde almost sighed aloud. _Artsanna, we can't wait for Alaric to anything. He's off doing who knows what who knows where with nearly one fourth the Riders that are here. I doubt he'll be in a position to fight Eragon._

 _Yes,_ Artsanna said, _but if he knows of Eragon's plans, then he can catch him when he is most vulnerable. He can destroy Eragon when he goes to Ilirea to dethrone Queen Nasuada._

Lynde thought about it and that seemed advantageous. But it also seemed foolish. _Have you forgotten about Eragon's spell to disrupt communications?_

Artsanna was quiet for a moment before saying, _Good point. I forgot about it._

Lynde realized that the color of her thoughts had been angry when she said that, and said, _Sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…_

 _It is all right,_ Artsanna said. _I am usually mindful of those things. Perhaps when we move to attack, we can inform Alaric then._

 _That sounds good,_ Lynde said. _We'll have to discuss this with the others later, but I think they'll agree._ She hoped that they would agree. Then perhaps they would actually have a plan.


	30. A Knife in the Darkness

That night, Lynde talked with Ivuldr and Volyeth in her room about Artsanna's plan. While it sounded like treachery, it fit in with their goals to stop Eragon before he hurt anyone else. But to betray their fellow Riders during an attack as dangerous as the one on Ilirea probably would be was like stabbing them all in the back. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Lynde managed to get them to agree to this plan.

Lynde sat at the foot of the bed in her borrowed room as she spoke. "Good," she said. "Now that we have that settled, who will call to Alaric when the time comes?"

Volyeth, who sat in a rocking chair near the fireplace, shook her head and said, "I don't I can do that. I'll allow this, but I won't support it in any other way."

Lynde looked to Ivuldr, who was leaning next to the door cautiously. He was supposed to tell them if anyone was coming, and so far he didn't have any reason to warn them. He looked sorrowful as he said, "I cannot, but not for fear. I thought we might have need for such a person, so I volunteered to ride at the front of our formation when the time came. I will be next to Eragon during the flight to Ilirea, and would not be able to contact anyone without him looking over my shoulder and seeing him. Out of all the people to discover our plans, I think Eragon would be most upset by them."

Lynde understood him. He understood both why he acted impulsively to put himself in that position and why he could not act now that he was there. She also understood that now it was upon her to tell Alaric when they moved to attack. She looked to each of them said, "Then I suppose I'll have to do it." She half smiled and half frowned. "This is going to be hard."

"All you have to do is have a mirror, a spell, and a reminder to do it," Ivuldr said. "You should be fine as long as Alaric accepts a call from you of all people. He searched for you harder than any other Rider, I hear."

"Indeed," Volyeth said. "He punished me severely for letting you go when we first met."

Lynde sighed and said not entirely seriously, "Thank you for making me feel better."

After a while in silence, Volyeth said, "Well, we'd better go I think. There's nothing left for us to talk about, so we might as well."

Lynde nodded and the two Elven Riders left. But before Ivuldr closed the door, he said to Lynde, "If I could, I would."

After Ivuldr shut the door, Lynde thought about his words. "If I could, I would." It was a simple phrase telling of his commitment to their cause. She considered if they might mean something more to him, but she decided not to think of it anymore. It was late and she needed rest.

After the few preparations she had for this, she went to bed. She laid awake for a while before realizing that there was a presence she had not noticed before. It was not one in the room, but in her mind. She quickly grabbed onto it like she would a snake and prepared to attack.

She called to Artsanna just as she felt another presence assault her. Artsanna tackled it and growled menacingly at the creature. But the one Lynde had pinned down wriggled free and joined the other. Now that they were together, they formed something different.

They did not face two any longer but one. This thing of one mind was stronger than either one of the two who made it whether they were apart or together. It unleashed a flurry of strikes with a spiked whip, slashing and cutting at Lynde and Artsanna. Any attacks they made failed in the face of this monstrosity. It could not be stopped by either of them, but perhaps it could be stopped together.

Lynde and Artsanna did not have time to consider it, but they did it anyway. Their minds met and became one. It was strange how natural it felt, as if they had been two halves only now coming together after so long. Now perhaps they could defeat their attackers.

But now it was too late and the presence had fled. They did not know why, but perhaps the attackers realized that the battle would not be so easy anymore. Whatever the reason, they chose to separate their minds now that the crisis was over.

Lynde was relieved to be back in her own body with her own thoughts again as she sensed Artsanna was as well. Their coming together of minds had been strange, if unusually natural to them. _Perhaps all Riders can do that,_ Artsanna suggested.

 _I have never heard of it happening before,_ Lynde replied.

 _Neither have I,_ Artsanna said. _But more disturbing is that you were attacked by those who can do it too._

Lynde found Artsanna's conclusion disturbing. _You think they were Riders?_

 _Perhaps. Perhaps they were Eragon and Saphira, or they were someone else._

 _We should find out who!_ Lynde declared.

 _How?_ Artsanna proposed. _We have not any means of tracking them and all we have to go on is that they had unusual mental powers. That does not mean anything and it could be just a mindbreaker trick that we had not heard of before. I am sorry, but we will need to let this prey go._

As painful as it was to admit it, Artsanna was right. There was nothing they could do to follow their attackers and no one would admit to doing such a thing as this—no one that she knew of anyway. All they could do now was wait for them to come again, but hope that they didn't.

Now that the attack was over, Lynde found it hard to get to sleep. If she fell asleep, her defenses would be down and just anyone could walk into her mind and take what they wanted. She needed sleep, but couldn't bear to leave herself vulnerable after that.

 _Do not worry,_ Artsanna said. _I will defend you while you rest._

Lynde felt herself smile. _Thank you._

 _You are most welcome,_ Artsanna replied. _Now go to sleep._ Lynde tried to obey that command.


	31. Flight to Ilirea

Lynde heard a bell ring through the fort to atop the wall where she looked over the city. It sounded like the bell that had warned of the Empire's army two weeks ago, but was undeniably different. It was different in tone and seemingly in purpose as she could see no armies or Dragons approaching. Was this it; was it time for the ride to Ilirea?

Lynde wanted to find out, so she climbed down the wall and began looking for someone who could tell her what was going on. A crowd of Riders and Dragons was forming outside the tower in the middle of the fort, so she went there with Artsanna arriving soon before her. Here were as many Riders as were at Jeneve's funeral, but were far lively here than they had been before. Even Ivuldr and Volyeth were there with their Dragons. Everyone wanted to know what was going on and was looking to Eragon and Saphira to find out.

Eragon sat up on Saphira's saddle where he could be clearly seen. Lynde could not make out the expression on his face, but his voice was as cold and hard as steel. "Today we ride to Ilirea; today we begin the downfall of Queen Nasuada; today is when the fear of the Riders will be instilled into the hearts of all who dare oppose us."

The five pairs who were too loyal to Eragon cheered, as did another five. She recognized those five as some of those among the ones gaping at the horror on display when the Empire's army burned. Something had happened to those five, and Lynde couldn't be sure what. Few cheered other than them, and those who did only did so halfheartedly. This was nothing to be cheered for by anyone with their soul intact and unfearful.

Eragon basked in the few cheers he got and said, "We ride before noon and will only stop at nightfall, so make ready all that you can." Lynde could at least follow those orders.

* * *

After Lynde had gotten what food supplies she needed from the fort's quartermaster, she packed them into Artsanna's saddlebags. They both knew that the only reason Artsanna carried both Lynde and all the supplies was that she was strong and able to. If Lynde had been more suited to carry Artsanna, she would, but that was not the case so there was no point musing about such possibilities.

While they were outside, Lynde saw Eragon and Lord Vidar talking. She could almost hear them with her own ears, but through Artsanna she could hear them clearly. "I am glad you are leaving, Eragon," Lord Vidar said. "While it has been and honor, I feel as if I have betrayed the Empire in letting you stay here."

"Don't worry; you have done a greater service to it than any other man during the queen's reign," Eragon replied. "By letting us stay here and prepare, we can remove the greatest threat to peace in the last ten years. You have done well."

Lord Vidar sighed mournfully. "In some ways, I feel that you are more a threat than Queen Nasuada."

Eragon stepped back and put his hand on his hilt. "You dare?"

"Mind you, I am just a man," Lord Vidar defended. "I do not see the same, larger picture as you. But to me, you are like a man I served under eleven years ago. While he was farther up the chain of command than I and I never met him, I heard and saw what he did. He liked making statements too, trying to put fear into people to keep them from attacking." Lord Vidar scoffed. "Those who use fear as a weapon, I think, are the ones who are most afraid."

"You know nothing of such things," Eragon said, anger and contempt dripping from his voice. "If you had not been such a generous host to us, I would kill you where you stand for saying such lies."

"I am honored," Lord Vidar replied, standing his ground with not a trace of fear in his voice. "But I thought you might be able to take such criticism, seeing your high position." Eragon scoffed and turned on his heel, marching away from Lord Vidar without another word.

Lynde and Artsanna had just seen someone, not even a Rider, stand against Eragon without fear. Whether it was because of bravery or foolishness was unknown, but it was inspiring in a way. If such a man could stand against him and live, then perhaps there was still hope.

Eragon marched to Saphira and leapt onto her back. He then shouted with a voice that echoed throughout the fort, "It is time to ride!" Riders flocked to their Dragons, some still carrying bags of food from the quartermaster. When everyone was ready, Eragon said, "Now, to Ilirea!"

The Dragons began to take off, one after another jumping into the air and flapping their wings to gain the altitude necessary for prolonged flight. The dust they blew into the air was blinding and the thunder from their wings deafening. Soon enough, Artsanna joined them, and was in the air trailing behind the other Dragons. The flight to Ilirea had begun.

They cleared the fort easily, and the city after some time. Once they had left Gil'ead and the inhibiting spells behind, Lynde looked into their saddlebags to find a small mirror she had packed. It had a plain wooden frame and was larger than her hand, but it was a mirror and that was all that mattered. She spoke the spell to contact Alaric through the mirror, and prepared for her conversation.

She had feared Alaric and what he had been to her in the past. He had represented the fear of capture to her and her fear of losing herself to the Riders not in body but spirit. He was the one who she feared becoming; a Rider who only felt anger towards Dragons. He was the Rider who she most feared apart from Eragon, but she would have to put that aside for now.

She also feared that Alaric would reject a message from her, seeing as how she was with the enemy. She had also been his enemy for some time before she joined the Riders. She could only hope that he would listen to her.

The image that first appeared in the mirror was darkness and Lynde was somewhat confused by that. It was not until the image shifted that she could see that Alaric's mirror had been in a saddlebag. Now she saw a stone chamber that she did not recognize and then Alaric's burned face with piercing eyes. "Who is this?" he asked harshly.

Lynde swallowed her fear and said, "This is Lynde of Cathalorn, and I have knowledge of Eragon's plans."

Alaric calmed somewhat, looking interested and saying, "Continue."

Since he was listening she said, "Eragon rides to Ilirea with all his Riders and Dragons. They are going to forcefully remove Nasuada from the throne."

Alaric's eyebrows rose. After a moment he asked, "What about the prisoners he took; where are they?"

"Back at Gil'ead as far as I know," Lynde replied slightly unsure. She hadn't heard anything about them in the two weeks since her visit, so she could only guess how they were.

Alaric visibly considered this and then said, "Thank you. We shall take this under consideration." Lynde nodded, knowing that was all she could hope for.

As Alaric disappeared, Lynde felt a wave of relief fall over her. She had sent the message; Alaric now knew. Now all she could do was wait.


	32. Strike Like Lightning

Arlen was thinking of how he might defeat Eragon when there was a knock at his door. He turned his head towards it and wondered as to who might be knocking. Since he could not know without looking, he got up and went to the door. He opened it and saw an Elf woman who he recognized after a moment as Rose. She held up a letter and said, "You've got a reply from Cathalorn."

Arlen's heart leapt at the news. He hadn't expected a letter back, but now that he had he wanted more than anything to read it. Rose handed him the letter and he said "Thank you" as he opened it.

Arlen looked on the letter and saw that it was written by a hand he didn't recognize. He knew vaguely what the handwriting of each of his family members looked like, so it had to be someone else. He looked at the bottom and saw that it was signed by Leonie. He wasn't surprised that she was literate but that she was the one who had written back instead of any of his family. He accepted it anyway and read the letter.

 _Dear Arlen_

 _I write for me and for your family when I say we understand. It took us a little while to realize what all you said, but now that we did, we understand. You never meant to leave us for such a long time or for this enemy you wrote about to come back for you. As much as we each wish it wasn't true, we will cope for now._

Arlen thought that would have been a place to stop, but found that the letter continued.

 _Arlen, there are some things that have happened since you left. The first snowflake of the season fell, but it did not stick. We have been kind of hoping that no one will begrudge us for not telling anyone about it. We did not feel like celebrating anything until you came back._

Arlen was surprised with all that. The festival of the first snow was one of their most honored traditions. To ignore it was more than a little shocking. As much as he was touched by how they didn't want to celebrate it without him, he didn't want them to halt their lives just for his sake.

 _Your mother wanted me to tell you Ehren has become taken with a girl. I think her name was Edaline. I do not know her, but that does not say much. Ehren denies it, but I have seen them together and it looks like it takes everything they are not to be in each other's arms all the time. She is not that great a looker, but the way Ehren describes her she is the most beautiful woman in the world._

Arlen believed he remembered Edaline. She had been in some trouble a while back when she developed a nasty cold one winter. He and Ehren had to go find an herb that Chelsa described would sooth the sickness. It took them three days in the freezing winter to find it under the snow, but they found it and may have saved Edaline's life. Arlen had never found out why Ehren had volunteered the two of them to find it, but now he had a good guess.

 _Your mother has her eye on the two of them, but I think she is a bit jealous. She has no husband and she is not too far from fifty. The fact that there is no one around for her must be agonizing, but we have gotten along well enough. She invites me over every morning for tea, and we talk often enough. I do not know who she misses more, you or your father.  
I know who I miss more. Arlen, if you ever come back, you have got a woman who will never let you leave again and I am not talking about your mother. These past few weeks have been longer without you in them, and yet too fast. Every hour passes slowly, but the days seem to slip by without me noticing. I never realized what it meant to miss someone until now.  
Arlen, there is something I want to ask you, but I cannot. It is not proper for the woman to ask that question, and you are far away and can't answer right away. But I have you know that I write this with the hope that you will ask me it when you come back. I know you will figure out what I mean by it; you are smart like that._

 _Love Leonie_

Arlen lowered the letter and thought about Leonie's words. He knew she wanted to ask him to marry her, seeing as how that was one of the more improper things a woman might do that was perfectly fine for a man, at least in Cathalorn. He was a little taken aback by it. It was still a little early for them to be thinking of marriage, seeing as how they had only met that summer. They knew a lot about each other already, but marriage? He wasn't sure about that.

He loved Leonie, he knew that much, but to marry her was something else entirely. To be bound until death was a statement neither of them could take back. In Cathalorn it was rare for anyone to remarry; not forbidden or taboo, but rare even if one of them died early on. Sometimes widowers and widows would marry, if only because they already had experience with such things. Most wanted their spouse to be as inexperience in marriage as they were. It was a big step and Arlen didn't want to take it too early.

Before he could think too deeply on the matter though, he heard Alaric shout from the main chamber, "Prepare to ride out!" Arlen put the letter in his coat and ran outside with Rose to see what was going on. Several Riders and Dragons had done the same and were now assembled around Alaric, Magnora, and Haldthin. Everyone wanted to hear why they were leaving.

Haldthin was the one who spoke. _We have been contacted by a Rider among Eragon's. She has stated that they are flying to Ilirea as we speak. We must take this opportunity to strike while they are vulnerable._

"Who was the source?" Rose asked.

 _I will not say who for her own protection, but she can be trusted,_ Haldthin said.

"If it's Volyeth, it's probably a trap," Rose said. "She has issues with duty and loyalty."

 _It was not Volyeth who contacted us; that much I will say,_ Haldthin said. It occurred to Arlen that it could have been Lynde who contacted them, but he couldn't know for sure. There were a lot of Riders with Eragon, and a lot of them could have been women, so just saying "she" didn't narrow it down enough. He still liked to think so though.

 _We shall go to Ilirea with little delay,_ Haldthin declared, raising his head towards the entrance. _We shall not stop for anything along the way, for fear of arriving too late, and attack Eragon as he attacks Ilirea, if we get there in time._

Arlen thought it was a good enough plan, but else someone didn't. A short woman who could have only been a Dwarf and had red hair stepped forward and said, "What about Zahgrez and Sorcha? What about our captured brethren?"

"We can't save them, Nardra," Alaric stated. "It would take time that we don't have and they may not be in good enough shape to fly with us all the way to Ilirea or even back here. We need to strike swiftly, and by doing so, save Zahgrez and Sorcha and their Dragons."

The Dwarf frowned and said, "Fine, but you'd better be right."

 _We can only hope so,_ Haldthin said. _Now let us prepare for the journey._ With that the small crowd dispersed and went to the storerooms.

Arlen didn't have much other than the clothes on his back, so he was as ready as Rose was. They went to Magnora and climbed onto her back, ready to ride out at a moment's notice. Soon enough the others were ready as well, and they began to climb through the tunnel to the surface.

Once all the Dragons and Riders were on the surface, Alaric closed the doors behind them. There would be no going back from this. Whatever they did in Ilirea would determine the fate of the Empire and Alagaësia. It was terrifying, but Arlen decided to live with that terror and ride with them.

As the Dragons took off, thunder sounded, but not that of their wings. A flash of lightning came from the cloudy sky and struck the ground far from there. No rain or other lightning came, but that did not stop Alaric from forming a ward against lightning around them. But to be heralded by real lighting… either it was a coincidence or an omen of things to come—he hoped it was a coincidence. But as they flew towards the south, Haldthin's voice said, _May we strike like lightning!_


	33. Memories of Days Long Passed

Lynde and Artsanna flew with the other Dragon Riders until evening. When the sun set, the Riders landed and began to make camp. According to Eragon, they were not far from Ilirea, but far enough so that they wouldn't be spotted. They would make the final stretch in the morning, but for now they would rest.

Lynde pitched the tent Artsanna had carried with them and started a cook fire. She took a frying pan from Artsanna's saddlebags along with some dried meat and vegetables and fried them all. She intentionally cooked more than she would eat because she expected company. Ivuldr and Volyeth appeared from out of the gloom of night and into the light of the fire.

She looked to the Elves and said, "So I gave the message." Ivuldr's eyebrows rose interestedly while Volyeth only looked at Lynde passively. "Alaric and his Riders should be on their way now."

"Then they'll be here soon?" Ivuldr asked.

Lynde could only shrug as she stirred the contents of the pan with a wooden spoon. "I can't say, but I'd guess they'll meet up with us sometime soon. Maybe at Ilirea."

"I hope he doesn't catch up too late," Ivuldr noted.

"That's all we can do; hope," Lynde said, noticing how heavy her voice was. Perhaps with such a serious subject, even her voice was burdened with the weight of it all. She wasn't used to sitting around waiting and hoping for someone else to do something; she was used to fighting her own battles, but she couldn't do that now. All she could do was dread what tomorrow might bring.

Artsanna, who was out hunting for her own dinner, said to Lynde through their bond, _Do not fear what others might do and you cannot change. I have learned that when something is about to happen, good or bad, it is better to meet it not with feelings of fear and anticipation, but with a mind clear of all things but what you want from it. I hope for peace and harmony from this battle, and a chance to see the egg I laid hatch into Dragon. What do you hope to come from this battle?_

Lynde thought about it and realized what she wanted. _For a chance to save people from harm and to see Cathalorn again. To see it blanketed in snow, or the dew of the grass gleam from a summer sunrise. But not only do I want to see the village again, I want to see the people who live in it. I want to see Gelsey and Edana again, and my father, and Arlen, and everyone. I want to see them and talk to them, if only for a day._

Artsanna's thoughts felt proud and she said, _Then that is what you will fight for._

Lynde felt herself smile again. She hadn't smiled much lately, but now she couldn't help it. To think of all those things again and to hope to see them again was enough for her. Volyeth said suspiciously, "Why are you smiling?"

Lynde could only answer with, "I thought of home."

Volyeth seemed to understand as she nodded. "I miss home sometimes. It is a beautiful place. In the spring my family and I would hang lamps in the branches of our tree and dance until the moon was gone. In the fall we'd pretend we were leaves and hang from the branches, and whoever stayed up there longest was called, as it translates to your language, "evergreen" until next fall."

Lynde pictured those things and said, "That sounds wonderful. So you and your brothers and sisters did this?"

Volyeth shook her head. "No, I have none. My parents would do it, and my grandparents, and my great grandparents." Volyeth seemed to notice Lynde's confusion and said, "Elves do not usually have more than one child. We also maintain our youth much longer than humans do, so it's not unusual for a great grandfather to have the same energy as his great granddaughter."

Lynde nodded, understanding her now. "That must be interesting."

Volyeth shrugged. "I am accustomed to such things."

"I didn't even know my grandparents," Lynde noted. "And I've had more than most." Volyeth cocked an eyebrow at that, but Lynde didn't feel like explaining it so she didn't.

Volyeth looked to Ivuldr and said, "What about you? What is your home like?"

Ivuldr had a wistful look to his face as he looked to the dark cloudy sky. "My home has hot springs nearby that we'd go to in the winter and bathe or stick our feet in them. In the summer months, when it was too hot to sleep, we'd sit on the highest branches of the trees and look at the stars. I remember my father teaching me the constellations and how to find Artsanna, the north star."

Lynde laughed a little. "He didn't teach you to find my Artsanna though."

Ivuldr smiled. "No, I suppose not."

"What did you do at your home, Lynde?" Volyeth asked after a moment.

Lynde thought about it told them about everything. She told them of snowball fights and days down by the beach. She told them of how early snow would come and how late it would leave. She told them of her home's beauty, but also how rarely they could appreciate it. Every day was a struggle to survive, to work, to eat, and to not go mad doing it. But when they could relax, they did it wholeheartedly.

"Yes, it sounds like a lovely place," Volyeth said. "Perhaps I might visit it someday when this is over."

Lynde shrugged. "I think what you two described would be even better."

Ivuldr nodded and said, "Yes, but we have been there before. We have not been to your village. With your permission, I'd like to go there someday."

"Alright," Lynde laughed, "But you have to show me your home too."

"Agreed," Ivuldr said happily. "Now perhaps we should eat."

Lynde looked to the pan and decided he was right. She put the meat and vegetable in wooden bowls and handed them out to her friends. Yes, she finally realized that somehow they had become more than allies. Tonight they were friends sharing a meal, not comrades in a fight against injustice. She remembered how this fight had already cost her one friend, but now it had given her two more. It was not exactly a fair trade, but tonight it was enough to stave off the grief and hurt. Tonight was for the happiness it brought before the ugliness of tomorrow crept in.

After they ate and Ivuldr and Volyeth complimented her cooking, they went to their tents to rest. Lynde put out her fire and cleaned the dishes with a spell Rose had taught her to use when water wasn't available for washing. After that she went to her tent and laid down.

As she drifted to sleep, Artsanna said, _Find your own prey!_ shocking Lynde up. Artsanna however said, _Sorry, that wasn't meant for you._ Lynde grinned as she laid back down to rest.


	34. Battle Plans

Lynde awoke to the sound of Dragons' wings. They sounded louder than most, which puzzled her somewhat. She sat up and opened her tent flap to see what was going on. There, in the white overcast sky, were two Dragons, nearly the same size as the Elder Dragons. Actually, one of them was an Elder Dragon; Baeguirn, former partner of the Rider once called Fyrn'hjarta. She could only imagine what he was doing here.

After putting on her coat, boots, and armor, she picked up her sword and went to see what was going on. The purple-red Baeguirn landed not far from her, so she went to ask him some questions about why he was here. However, Artsanna got to him first and Lynde could feel her rage. _I thought you were going to look after our egg,_ Artsanna snapped angrily. _Why did you leave it?_

Artsanna allowed Lynde to hear Baeguirn's response. _I left it with Razrok when I was called here by Eragon for a mission. I and the magnificent Allr'eld'burthr have come to aid in the battle of Ilirea._

Lynde didn't quite know who Allr'eld'burthr was, but Artsanna quickly clarified. Allr'eld'burthr was the oldest female Dragon not bonded to a Rider, and was the mother of many Dragons both wild and bonded. Her name was taken for this reason, as it meant "all birther", which Lynde thought was a suitable name for a Dragon who had mothered so many children. Artsanna thought otherwise. _A female is not just a producer of eggs, and I find it somewhat insulting that she has become known for only that in her life._

Lynde was surprised with her. _Being a mother is a thing worthy of honor and in itself is an honor. I don't think the want to display it is too terribly offensive. When did you become so easily offended?_

 _After I became a mother,_ Artsanna replied. Lynde did not want to argue this further and neither did Artsanna, so they decided to let the subject go for now. After all it was a somewhat minor detail compared to most things in their lives. Attention now turned back to Baeguirn. _So why did you agree to leave our egg alone with a brute like Razrok?_

 _He was the only Rider there apart from a couple of students,_ Baeguirn explained. _I had little choice in the matter._

 _But why did you come at all?_ Artsanna asked.

 _Because after nearly ten years of being away from the world and doing nothing, I wanted to help make a difference. Is that so wrong?_

 _No, but you could have picked a better cause,_ Lynde interjected.

Before their conversation could go on further, Ivuldr appeared. He had been running, but since he was an Elf he didn't seem at all out of breath despite running faster than most Humans could. He quickly said, "Eragon's holding a meeting in the center of camp. He's going to tell us the battle plan."

Lynde nodded and made a motion towards the Dragons saying, "Come on. This is important."

Lynde and the Dragons followed Ivuldr to the center of the camp where Eragon stood surrounded by Riders and Dragons with Saphira behind him. He cast a spell and a crude image of a city appeared in midair. Its most notable features were its improbably huge walls and the roof it had high above the city. In the middle of the city was a giant tower built almost like a castle. "This is the city of Ilirea," Eragon explained. "This is our objective."

Eragon then spoke another spell and the image of Dragons with Riders appeared. There seemed to be more Riders on them than most Dragons had, but Lynde wasn't about to correct Eragon on that. "Saphira, Baeguirn, and Allr'eld'burthr will carry most of the Riders over the wall and under the overhang. I will cast spells of invisibility over them to make sure they aren't spotted by anyone on the ground. The weather is with us; this overcast will make any shadows we cast unnoticeable. The three will carry us all the way to the citadel," he pointed to the tower in the middle of the city, "and there the invisibility spells will end and the fighting will begin.

"But long before we get to the citadel, the other Dragons will appear on the horizon." Eragon spoke and a few Dragons appeared near the city. "This will cause them to send their soldiers to the walls to prepare for an attack. This will draw soldiers away from the interior, though it also means that there may be some greater resistance around the citadel. But at least any reinforcement of the citadel will be delayed long enough for me to get in and capture Queen Nasuada. The rest of you Riders will hold the entrance to the citadel, ensuring that no one gets inside. If everything goes wrong, the Dragons will come and try to get us out. Now are there any questions?"

The gray hand of an Urgal raised and after Eragon pointed to its owner a grumbling voice asked, "Why are you the only one to storm the citadel? It doesn't seem very fair."

"Perhaps not for them, but it shall be easy enough for me as long as the location of the throne room hasn't changed," Eragon replied.

Eragon looked around for more questions, and found one. The voice was a fearful one, and Lynde could not figure out who the owner of it might be. "What about Murtagh? I heard he joined Queen Nasuada."

"He shall meet the same fate as Jörmundur if he continues to defend her," Eragon replied with iron in his voice. Lynde couldn't care less what happened to Murtagh, but the thought that he could dispatch the traitor with ease made her wonder what chance Alaric or the other Elders had of defeating him. She could only hope that a man like Eragon still got tired.

After no more questions came, Eragon assigned each Rider to a specific Dragon. Oddly enough, Ivuldr—who had volunteered to ride alongside Eragon before—was assigned to Baeguirn and Lynde was assigned to ride with Eragon on Saphira. She wondered about her placement, but for now she wouldn't ask Eragon as it might be a little dangerous.

Once everyone had been given their assignments, they went to them. Lynde was one of the first to mount Saphira, so she managed to get a seat close to Eragon at the front. While Artsanna was nervous for her, being so close to their enemy, she tried to waylay those fear as well as her own. _Artsanna, if he wanted to kill me, there are plenty of better times than now to do it. Besides, he'll value is own safety so he won't have Saphira do any maneuvers too wild._

Artsanna was hesitant to accept that, but she managed to. After all, wasn't it a saying to keep friends close and enemies closer? She couldn't remember where she had heard it or the meaning behind it, but in any case she hoped this didn't mean that Eragon would randomly kill her during the flight. He could do that any time he wanted, after all, with his knowledge of the name of the Ancient Language. Besides, one confrontation was no reason to kill someone—or at least she hoped it wasn't.

Saphira, Baeguirn, and Allr'eld'burther took to the skies and headed south towards Ilirea. Behind them were the other Dragons. Lynde had gotten used to their chorus of thunder, which she hoped wasn't due to hearing damage.

After a little while, Eragon cast the spell that made the three older Dragons invisible. It was disorienting at first to be invisible even to herself, but it got better after she decided not to look at herself. It was necessity not comfort that they were doing this after all, as otherwise they might be shot out of the air by archers or the like.

As they flew ever closer to what had to be the direction of Ilirea, Lynde prepared herself. She prepared her mind, soul, and body for a battle that might be the last one for a long time or the first in longer a reign of shadow. She would do everything within her power to make this the final battle.


	35. Outside the Citadel

Lynde caught sight of Ilirea and tightened her grip on the strap that kept Iet'baen on her shoulder. The city was exactly like the images Eragon showed her and the others only in greater detail. Her stomach and limbs felt weak, but she couldn't allow that now. It was time for battle.

Saphira flew out ahead of the other Dragons with Lynde atop her. Presumably the other elder Dragons followed them, but due to the spells of invisibility, she couldn't tell. It wasn't long before they were above the walls, seeing soldiers preparing for battle, loading massive ballistae and passing out crossbows and quivers. They didn't even notice that three of the oldest living Dragons in Alagaësia flew right over them.

After they had left the wall behind, they flew straight for the citadel. When they were a few blocks away from the massive tower-fortress, their spells of invisibility lifted. She could see herself, Eragon, Saphira, Baeguirn, Allr'eld'burthr, and the other Riders easily. She had assumed that they were going to wait until they had landed to release the spells, not before. Eragon then said like a curse, "Murtagh."

Saphira and the other Dragons went to land below the steps leading into the Citadel, their arrival was met with arrows and shouts. Saphira breathed powerful blue fire upon the soldiers below, incinerating them instantly. The Dragon each landed with a thud and the Riders began to dismount.

Lynde hit the ground and she could feel the warmth of the paved stones through her boots. She removed the sheath from her shoulder and drew Iet'baen for all to see. As she put the sheath back over her shoulder, she looked around for anyone who might pose a threat to her. She found no one as many of the soldiers left their posts and others were easily dispatched by her fellow Riders.

Eragon stepped off the rope ladder attached to Saphira's saddle and marched towards the Citadel's gates. The iron gates were sealed shut and warped by Saphira's fire so they would be difficult to open. Eragon did not even break his stride as he spoke a spell that flung the gates off their hinges, over Lynde and the other Riders, and onto the street leading to the citadel. As they crashed on the ground, Eragon entered the citadel.

This didn't feel right to Lynde. Alaric's Riders should have been there by now. Lynde looked to Artsanna through their bond that stretched from the citadel, through the city, and into the air above the outskirts of the city. She asked the silver Dragon, _Where are Alaric's Riders?_

 _I do not know; they are nowhere to be seen,_ Artsanna replied. If Alaric didn't show himself soon, they would have no chance of stopping Eragon from causing untold strife for the Empire. Lynde could not sit idly by while this happened, but she couldn't face Eragon alone either.

Lynde mentally contacted Ivuldr and Volyeth and said to them, _We need to follow him._

 _No, it would be too suspicious,_ Ivuldr replied.

 _We need to stop him if Alaric's Riders won't,_ Volyeth countered.

 _But it would be highly suspicious and Saphira might try to stop us._ Just as Ivuldr said that, Saphira moved to block the gateway with her body. _While it could be possible to defeat Saphira as we are, I do not want to try it._

Lynde wouldn't accept defeat so easily. _What about Baeguirn? He or Allr'eld'burthr might be able to help us._

 _Do you want to ask them or shall I?_ Ivuldr asked. _It's too risky to try and convince them to join us now._

 _He's got a point,_ Volyeth admitted. _We don't know how they'll react. They might even tell Saphira about it._

 _Well we can't just let him do this either,_ Lynde said.  
 _Maybe we won't, but Murtagh's in there,_ Volyeth pointed out. _If there was anyone who could defeat Eragon, Murtagh would be one of them._

Lynde considered this. Murtagh was a skilled duelist according to the legends. He had defeated Eragon and those like him on numerous occasions. What's more, he might have been the one responsible for Arlen's ability to defeat Elves, Riders, and the like—though she never did get a definitive answer from him. Murtagh was their only hope of defeating Eragon if Alaric didn't arrive soon.

Suddenly Artsanna said to Lynde with hope in her voice, _Alaric has come._


	36. The True Battle Begins

After riding with Alaric all of yesterday and into today, Arlen finally saw Ilirea. It looked strange not only for its massive walls but also for the roof it had suspended over the city. He couldn't speculate as to why it existed as they came across a group of Dragons flying near Ilirea. There wasn't any doubt in Arlen's mind that they were aligned with Eragon, but he did wonder what they were going to do about them. As the wind whipped past his face he heard Haldthin's voice say, _We charge the city and hope that the Empire knows the difference between us and Eragon's._

Arlen didn't know if Haldthin's plan was the best. After all, if they didn't care about the difference, then they could be shot at while fighting Dragons. It was not the best situation, but he didn't think anyone wanted to waste time.

As far as he could tell, Saphira wasn't among the Dragons outside Ilirea. This meant that Saphira—and Eragon for that matter—could be anywhere else, including inside the city. If they were inside, then it was likely that Eragon was that much closer to his goals of dethroning Queen Nasuada. While he never did like Queen Nasuada, he at least knew that a violent dethronement would not cause anything good within the Empire. They had to find and stop Eragon before he could do anything to the Empire, even if that meant flying into unwelcome skies.

Just as they started for the city, a massive forest green Dragon appeared out of the clouds. As it flew in front of Magnora and Haldthin, Arlen could see it was bigger than either of them. It carried warriors whose long hair blew in the wind and swords gleamed with a powerful light. It flew past them and towards the city, faster than any Dragon in their group dared go for risk of leaving someone behind.

Arlen found himself shaking and fear in his stomach. He looked to Rose and asked as he tried and failed to keep his voice from trembling, "What was that?"

Rose seemed as shocked as he was, and said without looking to him, "That was Fírnen, he who is bonded to Queen Arya of the Elves."

Arlen barely believed what was going on around him. Eragon and Queen Arya in the same place? As far as he knew, such a meeting had not happened for over ten years. In the legends they spoke of some romance between them, but that did not say why Arya was here with so many warriors—who he assumed were Elves because of their long hair. He could only speculate who Arya and Fírnen were here to support and hope that she was there for their cause rather than Eragon's.

Fírnen's appearance did not stop Haldthin or Magnora though, even if it did slow them a bit at first. They were not far from the city's walls when the Dragons on Eragon's side took notice of them and attacked. Claws slashed at both Dragon and Rider, and fire surrounded the battle. It was too much for Arlen to see and comprehend all at once so instead he looked toward the ground to see if the soldiers had started firing at them. He was surprised to see not one bow on that wall was pointed up.

Fírnen was perched on the wall and it looked as if Queen Arya was talking to someone. Perhaps she had convinced them that they were there to help Queen Nasuada, not hinder her like Eragon's Riders were. Arlen was so glad that they didn't need to worry about soldiers anymore, but that didn't help against the Dragons.

Suddenly Dragons began to fall. They did not fly any longer except towards the ground. They landed limply upon the ground, barely moving. It was only the Dragons aligned with Eragon who seemed to be affected. Arlen felt a sinking feeling as he did not know what had done this to the Dragons.

Alaric seemed to know. "Arlen, Rose, there are only three people in the world that know the name of the Ancient Language. Only three who have that the knowledge and power to wield it and do something like that through any wards the Dragons might have. All three of are in this city. They are Eragon, Murtagh the Traitor, and Queen Arya. If I am right, Arya used her power to cause the Dragons to go into a deep sleep. They should be fine, but let this be a lesson; there is only one absolute power when it comes to the Ancient Language and that is its name."

Arlen was now presented with truths that he found terrifying and comforting. He was terrified that someone had such power and comforted that he was at least of as well protected against it as anyone. He also hadn't known Murtagh was in Ilirea, but that seemed minor—today anything fit with what went on here.

The only Dragons without Riders—who he assumed were aligned with Eragon—other than Haldthin that were still flying, strangely enough, were three whitish Dragons. One was white, one was white gold, and another was silver. Silver!? As he looked closer he saw that the silver one had all the features of Artsanna from her triangle head plate and red eyes to her mace-like tail. Arlen tried contacting the Dragon, hoping she was Artsanna and not a look-alike. It was then that he heard her voice after so long, _Arlen, what are you doing here?_

Grateful that this was Artsanna he replied, _I'm here to fight Eragon. What are you doing? How are you still flying?_

 _I do not know,_ Artsanna replied. _A presence tried to enter my mind, but could only read my surface thoughts. I believe it saw my thoughts of rebelling against Eragon, and while I was afraid at first for the discovery, it might have actually saved me from that. My allies Glideith and Almei were also spared and they tell of something similar happening to them._

Arlen now knew how Arya's spell only affected the Dragons aligned with Eragon. Their thoughts were of loyalty to their Riders and their loyalty to Eragon while Artsanna and her allies were rebellious. It must have been so or else how would the Dragons on their side been safe as well? Then again, he didn't entirely know how magic worked so couldn't even guess as to why the spell turned out how it did, so he moved on from such thoughts.

Artsanna said rather urgently, _Lynde wishes to tell Alaric that once you land at the citadel, you will have three Riders as allies. She is one of them along with two Elves, Ivuldr and Volyeth._

After he relayed the information, Alaric said, "Good. Three less to worry about."

Fírnen took off with his Elven passengers and joined alongside Alaric and Magnora. A beautiful, melodic voice that he could only assume was Queen Arya's carried through the wind to Alaric and by proximity Arlen and probably Rose. The voice had iron in it, but also a certain sadness. "We of the Elven kingdom of Du Weldenvarden wish to join you in battling Eragon."

After a pause, Alaric said back, "Then you are most welcome."

As the Dragons flew towards the giant tower in the middle of the city, Arlen believed that they had a chance. Not only would the Dragons not hinder them anymore but they had a company of Elves who were probably faster and stronger than most of the Riders they would face. And Queen Arya was there to help battle Eragon, who might have been at least his equal. Arlen felt better about this than he ever had been before, though good feelings didn't always mean good results. A lot of things could go wrong, but for now he focused on what was going right.

The Dragons landed at the steps of the citadel and the Riders began to dismount. Among the Elves to dismount from Fírnen was one Arlen recognized as Kaesdir. He wasn't surprised at this, as Alaric had told him that he was there to convince the Elves to join them. Really he wondered where the Dwarves were, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

As Arlen dismounted after Rose, Alaric turned to him and said, "If all goes well, stay out here with the Dragons. If there is a fight, follow me into the citadel. We'll stop Eragon even if his Riders try to stop us."

Arlen nodded. As much as he didn't want to fight an opponent as strong as Eragon, someone had to, and if no else could, he'd do it. He just hoped all went well, as Alaric said.

The scarred Alaric, the beautiful Arya, and the silver haired Kaesdir marched towards the steps of the citadel. Among the Riders, one Elf stood in front as if to represent them. He could not know his name, but there was something menacing about him. The three Riders on their side didn't flinch and Arya said, "Step aside. We come for Eragon and no one else."

"We will not let you pass," the Elf replied sternly, rust colored sword pointed towards them.

"Then you shall regret your decision," Arya declared. "Attack!"


	37. Into the Fray

Lynde was not with the Riders loyal to Eragon who charged Alaric's Riders and the Elves. She stood back with Ivuldr and Volyeth, ready to defend themselves. They didn't yet know if Alaric's Riders knew that they had switched sides, so it seemed unwise to attack Eragon's just yet. For now they waited for something to confirm the misplaced Arlen had passed on the message to Alaric and he passed it on to his Riders.

One of the Riders on Eragon's side took notice and went over to them. He was a Dwarf and one of those whose Dragon burned Jörmundur's army at Gil'ead. His brown beard could not hide his look of anger as he marched towards them with his sword drawn. "Why do you not attack?" he asked angrily. "We need every Rider to survive this battle."

Lynde shook her head. She then said as sternly as she could, making it clear to him that they would not fight, "No."

The Dwarf sneered at them and said, "Fool! Do you wish Nasuada or the Corrupted One to continue?"

"I couldn't care less as to the first," Ivuldr said as he left the others and began to circle the Dwarf. His eyes switched between keeping track of him to Lynde and Volyeth and back again. "Even if Nasuada were to continue her reign as queen, she would eventually die. It could be ten or twenty or even thirty years, but Humans tend to die quickly. It is of no consequence to me if she continues her reign.

"But as to the second," Ivuldr continued, now with him on the opposite side of the Dwarf as Lynde and Volyeth. He kept the Dwarf's complete attention as he said, "I feel as if we're not on the right side. After all, who was it who burned every last soldier of an Imperial company alive?"

"Traitor!" the Dwarf said as he swung his sword at Ivuldr. Ivuldr parried and Volyeth kicked the Dwarf in the small of his back. She then stomped on his back right where his lungs should have been and he released a gasp. Lynde found Volyeth's treatment of the Dwarf downright brutal, if effective.

He was wheezing on the ground, grasping his chest, when Volyeth knelt down and said to him, "Slytha, Knurlan, and trouble us no more."

The Dwarf closed his eyes and was nearly motionless. As Lynde got the sinking feeling he was dead, but then a loud snore came from his mouth. Relief washed over her; after all, corpses didn't snore.

Three figures came out of the crowd of battling Riders and Elf warriors. Two she recognized as Arlen and Alaric. The third she didn't know, but she was a dark haired Elf woman who wore a black leather outfit and a gold circlet on her head, and carried a deep green sword. The three came up to Lynde and the others, to which both of her Elven companions both knelt down and said in reverence, "Arya Drӧttning."

The dark haired Elf looked exasperated, and with a motion of her hand she said, "Rise! We have no time for formalities today."

Lynde had no time to wonder who she was or think hard on her name because as Ivuldr and Volyeth rose, Alaric pointed to the gateway with Saphira guarding it. The sapphire Dragon looked at them with great hostility, as did the blueish-green Allr'eld'burthr. Baeguirn however looked passive and apart from the other two. Alaric said with fatigue in his voice, "How do we get through them?"

Arya shook her head as she said, "Unfortunately, Fírnen has told me that he will not do battle with Saphira. He might fight the other, but I would want to know why she has a coloration such as that first."

Alaric didn't answer her question, instead saying curtly, "Magnora will do it."

Lynde cocked an eyebrow at the confident Rider. "Both of them?" she asked

"Well, maybe for today just Saphira." Alaric shrugged. "She feels charitable today. She'll let the other Dragons battle Allr'eld'burthr." Lynde found Alaric's use of the word "charitable" strange, but she let it go. The bigger the Dragon, the better the chances they might win against the oldest living Dragon in Alagaësia—other than the Eldunarí anyway.

"Very well," Arya said. "You may ask her if she wants to."

Alaric grinned as he turned around. He shouted over the crowd of battling Riders a sentence that was a strange as it was simple. "Hey, Magnora, do you want to fight Saphira?"  
The red-gold Dragon raised her head and peered over the fighting masses with a dangerous look in her eyes. She had seen the look before in Artsanna's eyes, but only when she was hunting and about to pounce on her prey. Judging by the fact there were no deer around, that could only mean Magnora accepted the challenge.

Magnora leapt over the Riders and onto the steps of the citadel, flicking her tail back and forth. Saphira and Magnora snarled at each other as if they were a bear and a wolf fighting over a meaty carcass. They began to circle each other with eyes focused on only each other.

As Magnora stopped, looking as if she were about to pounce, Allr'eld'burthr tackled her. While Magnora tried to fight the Dragon, she did not have time as Haldthin swept in and pulled her off of the red-gold Dragon. These battles would be fought separately, she just knew.

Saphira took Magnora's disoriented state as an opportunity and pounced on the red-gold Dragon. Magnora threw the sapphire Dragon off of her instantly and jumped on the older Dragon to press her advantage. While Saphira fought it, Magnora with her stockier build was better suited to fighting on the ground than Saphira was. Saphira took to the sky and Magnora followed after her.

Now that the guardian Dragons were distracted, Lynde and the other Riders—and Arlen—could get to the gateway. Arya sped past them all, using her Elven legs to run faster than anyone else. Lynde's own Elven companions were not so rude and kept pace with their Human comrades. Once they had gotten to the gateway, Alaric stopped and said to them, "Lynde, you, Ivuldr, and Volyeth hold the gate. We need someone to ensure no one follows us."

Alaric wasn't about to lose her so easily. Lynde said resolutely, "I'm coming with you no matter what you say. The Dragons can guard the gate."

Alaric's gaze snapped to the sky, shock in his eyes, and said, "I believe they'll be busy. Look!"

Lynde followed Alaric's gloved hand as it pointed to the sky. While there were not as many as before, some of the Dragons loyal to Eragon had awakened and now flew to the citadel. Lynde didn't need to be told that they would need their Dragons to fight the battle in the sky as she fought the battle on the ground. Lynde frowned at Alaric and said, "This one time, I'll do it."

"Good," Alaric replied. "Now let's not waste any more time. We need to get to Eragon before he gets to Queen Nasuada. Queen Arya may not be enough to defeat him."

As Alaric ran through the gateway into the citadel, Arlen followed him. While Lynde would have liked to talk to him and find out why he hadn't gone back to Cathalorn, she did not have to time for it. She would have to stay and hold the steps to the citadel, leaving Arlen to help fight Eragon. She didn't want him to go without words though, so called after him, "Good luck!"

He glanced back and called, "If we had good luck, we wouldn't need to be here."

Lynde smiled at the truth. If they had the good luck that Eragon was never corrupted, they wouldn't be in this situation. If they had the good luck to defeat him after he left Edoc'sil, there would have been no battle at Gil'ead or their current battle. If they had good luck, there wouldn't be a battle ever fought in Alagaësia for their entire lifetime. But if there was such a thing as good luck, then she wanted it now more than ever because the fate of Alagaësia rested on what they did on this day.

As Lynde turned around and saw the battle before her. Artsanna took to the sky, following Fírnen to battle the Dragons above. Saphira tangled Magnora in the air, smashing the red-gold Dragon into one of the towers that held up the massive overhang. Three of the Riders who were vehemently loyal to Eragon marched towards the gate. This was their lot to deal with.

Lynde raised her sword and shouted a battle cry. It was not "for Alagaësia" as she had heard so many cry. They cried for a place, but she shouted for people. She spoke for the people who she knew would be affected by such upheaval as Eragon wanted to cause. Her battle cry was for her friends and family she had left behind, but it just so happened that most of them were in the same place. So what she shouted as she prepared to fight the Human and Urgal Riders before her was, "For Cathalorn!"


	38. The Power of the Three

It was hard for Arlen to keep up with Alaric as they ran down the polished brown stone hallways of the citadel. He assumed Alaric knew where he was going, but he had no way to be sure. They left behind dead or wounded soldiers, though they were not responsible for their hurts. They followed Eragon, who probably had more a hand in their pain than anyone else.

Arlen did not know how he would fight Eragon, but he hoped he wouldn't have to. Hopefully Queen Arya would defeat him or Murtagh or even Alaric before Arlen had to fight him. As much as he wanted to keep Alagaësia safe for his family back home, he did not think that even he could defeat Eragon, what with his magic and superior swordsmanship. He truly believed that if Alaric lost to Eragon, then all he, a man of Cathalorn, would do was become like the men they passed—broken and beaten.

As much as he wanted to give in to fear, he couldn't. Too much was at stake for him to give up now. He had to do this not only for Cathalorn but also for every family who had lost a son or would lose a son because of Eragon's actions today. If he could, he would fight for justice and protect Alagaësia from this menace, but he sincerely hoped he didn't get the chance to and someone else would take the responsibility.

Arlen wondered who he feared more: Eragon or Tyra? While Eragon was one of the most powerful beings in Alagaësia, Tyra actually made him a little more on edge. She knew she was evil, being a Shade and all, and that clarity might give her an edge. He also knew how dangerous Tyra was and experienced it firsthand. Her swordsmanship might have been sloppy, but her mental prowess was not to be underestimated. Eragon could claim all of her strength and more, but it would still seem distant to him as he had never experience them himself. He supposed that on this day he would find out how dangerous Eragon was and had become.

Alaric led him to two massive, grandly made doors that had been burst open by some force—probably magic—and their splinters laid scattered on the ground. Within the shadowy chamber he could see a throne, so he assumed it was the throne room, but no one sat on it. In fact there was no one he could see in that room that matched Queen Nasuada's description. The people inside were, in fact, more powerful than even the High Queen of the Empire. Inside Eragon Kingslayer, Queen Arya, and Murtagh the Traitor stood equally distant from each other with their swords raised to each other.

Arlen followed Alaric's lead and watched from them from the wreckage of the doors. One did not want to become underfoot in a duel such as this with such powerful combatants. For now they would watch and wait.

Eragon spoke, his voice carrying through the room to where Arlen and Alaric watched whether he wanted it to or not. He voice betrayed his anger, and his words betrayed what direction it was in. "I thought you were my friends; my family!"

"As did I, brother," Murtagh replied coolly. "But you have done what I did not think you capable of. You have become the very thing you sought to destroy, that enslaved me and tortured Arya."

"Fool!" Eragon shot back. "I have done what was necessary to maintain the respect we need to protect Alagaësia. Everything was for a reason."

"But as you may have learned, intention and action are two very different things," Arya stated. "Your intentions do not matter when you inflict pain and suffering on a person or persons. The path you have chosen was the wrong one, and your reasons were twisted by Shruikan to suit that path."

Before Arlen could ask Alaric about Shruikan, Eragon yelled, "What I did was necessary!"

"As Galbatorix said as he burned villages and slaughtered families," Murtagh said. "It being necessary does not make it right."

While they may have been trying to talk him down, they were failing miserably at it. Murtagh's last comment prompted a scream of rage from Eragon as he swung his blue sword at the man who legend said was his half-brother. Murtagh blocked and Arya took the opportunity to swing her green blade at Eragon's back. But faster than almost anything Arlen had seen, Eragon disengaged his blue sword from Murtagh's red one and blocked Arya's. And just as Murtagh attempted to strike Eragon's unprotected side, he drew a white blade from a sheath Arlen had not seen and parried the red blade. Eragon disengaged from both of them and stepped back, holding two swords in his hands.

Alaric seemed surprised with Eragon. Arlen looked to the Rider chief who quickly explained his surprise. "That is Islingr, sword of Vrael and Eragon I before him, both of them leaders of the old Order of Dragon Riders." Arlen did not know who these people he spoke of were, but then he said, "And was named Vrangr when Galbatorix wielded it."

As Arlen understood the sword's origins, Eragon used it to attack Murtagh. He lunged the stark white blade at his half-brother, who parried it with his own sword. While Arya tried to take advantage of this, he attempt was blocked by Eragon's blue Brisingr. Then it became too fast for Arlen to make out what they were doing.

The duel became faster and faster, with strikes, parries, blocks, and bashes going by faster than Arlen could really track. How they comprehended such a duel was beyond him as they were just a blue, red, green, and white blur to him with the wielders blending into the shadows of the room. Swords clanged together into such a tempo that even the fastest drummers would be loath to keep up. Their duel was spectacular if difficult to see.

Eventually the three ended their duel with Eragon stepping back and Arya and Murtagh on their knees. They did not seem to be physically wounded, but from the way they held their head he could tell they were under mental attack. The attack did not seem to hinder Eragon though, even though Arlen figured he was the one attacking. Alaric muttered under his breath, "Eldunarya no doubt."

Arlen didn't ask what Alaric meant by that as he was too busy watching Eragon's next move. He marched over to Murtagh and struck him on the head with Islingr's clear pommel. Murtagh collapsed to the ground unconscious and a roar sounded through the room. From the shadows a great red fire came forth towards Eragon. He could see that Thorn was the originator of that fire. With a few words by Eragon that Arlen could not make out, the fire stopped and Thorn collapsed. With a strike of Brisingr's pommel to the back of Arya's head, all of Eragon's opponents were defeated.

All were defeated except Alaric and Arlen. Alaric stepped forth out of the ruins of the doors and marched towards Eragon, drawing his short, red-gold arming sword with his left hand. Eragon scoffed at him. "You think you can defeat me where they could not?"

"I think therefor I do," Alaric replied, and swung his blade down at Eragon's head. Eragon raised Brisingr to defend and lunged with Islingr to attack. Alaric had anticipated that though and batted it away with a clank to his right bracer. He then punched Eragon in the gut once and then another time in his throat, knocking the wind out of him.

Eragon staggered back, and while he tried to speak, no words came out. Alaric stepped towards Eragon and anticipated that he would strike with Islingr. But while the senior Rider did swing Islingr, Alaric did not parry or block the sword. He struck Eragon's hand, slashing it and making him shriek in pain. As Eragon dropped the ancient sword, Alaric said, "So you can speak after all."

Eragon snarled and said, "Punching me with that arm must have hurt. How much pain are you willing to endure for victory?"

"As much as it takes," Alaric replied. He thrusted his blade at Eragon, but Brisingr was longer and struck the Rider chief's left shoulder before the red-gold sword could find its mark. Alaric yelled as the blue blade pierced his flesh. Eragon then kicked him in the stomach, withdrawing Brisingr, and he fell over. He landed with a thud as his sword clanged on the ground some feet from his grasp.

Eragon strode over to Alaric and knelt down next time him, sword ready to plunge into the Rider chief's chest. Arlen wanted to charge him, but his legs wouldn't let him. He tried to convince himself there was nothing to fear, but every argument fell short as Eragon was too powerful. Eragon just said one thing to Alaric while he was on the ground, "Too bad you lost your arm or else you might have been a better fighter."

Alaric laughed and in a pair of quick motions he drew one his daggers from behind his back with his right hand and stabbed Eragon in the shoulder. Eragon yelled and fell back. As he staggered up he drew the dagger out and tried to speak a spell, but nothing happened. Eragon gazed in disbelief at his wound as Alaric managed to get to his feet, another dagger in his hand.

"I dipped these in a special poison just for you," Alaric said. He kept his distance from Eragon, holding the dagger like he was going to throw it. Arlen had forgotten about those. "They take away a person's magic and slowly sap their strength as they slip into unconsciousness. It's a useful tool, though I haven't had much chance to use it. I got it from a mutual friend of ours."

Eragon sneered at Alaric and asked, "Who?"

Alaric grinned and said, "The same one who you should get a refund from on that reading of the future." Arlen didn't know who he spoke of, but decided not to think about it and just watch.

As blood dripped from their wounds, the two men stood with ready arms and stern faces. Alaric threw the dagger at Eragon, who batted it away with Brisingr. Alaric then dashed to his sword and picked it up with his right hand. Eragon leapt to Alaric and battered away at him. He swung and lunged his sword at Alaric many times, and while the Rider chief managed to defend himself against most of them, he was backing up into a wall. While Eragon was getting slower from the poison, he was still faster and stronger than Alaric.

Eragon with a single mighty strike knocked Alaric's sword out of his hand, sending it flying across the room. He then stabbed Alaric in the right shoulder and withdrew it as he screamed. Eragon then bashed him across the face with his pommel and cross guard, knocking him to the ground in a daze. "I'll deal with you later," Eragon said venomously. "I want to know where you got those blades, but it can wait. I have a queen to remove first."

Eragon marched away from the broken Alaric. As soon as he disappeared, Arlen dared to step out. He ran over to Alaric and asked, "Are you alright?"

"No," Alaric groaned. "But you can't do anything for me. Fight Eragon. Make sure he doesn't get to Nasuada. You're our last hope."

Arlen took up the mantle of saving everyone yet again, but this time it was heavier. While Eragon was weakened and without his magic, he still might have retained his mental powers. Besides, he was still an incredible menace that had to be dealt with. While he did not want to go one, there would be no going back if he didn't. He raced after Eragon with only Mor'ranr to give him hope that he might win this bout.


	39. The Strength of Dragons

Lilyon was glad that Arlen wasn't around anymore. He tended to call her Rose, and that was somewhat annoying. While she never corrected him, it did mess with her head a little. Of course, she would have liked the aid of a swordsman as she battled on the steps of the citadel of Ilirea. As she dodged a lung from a particularly slow Human Rider and kicked him in the face, she lamented that she didn't have someone else to do this for her.

She had decided to help the Dragons' battle in the sky, considering her area of expertise, but she did not have any way of doing that other than her bow. While her bow was powerful, her arrows were merely splinters to most Dragons or less. What she needed was something quite a bit larger. She needed a ballista, but those were higher up on towers or walls. She considered commandeering one.

While she was confident the soldiers manning them were competent, her accuracy was impeccable. She had never used a ballista before, but it couldn't be too hard. She was a Daughter of the Bow, after all, so it should be easy.

She looked around to the citadel and saw that on one of its many balconies sat a ballista. Obviously the Empire had expected a battle, but she did not know if they had gotten the chance to use those ballistae. She could use them if she got to them, but it was doubtful she could get in through the gate. While she had been told their side held the gateway—thanks to Lynde—the melee had reached there, cutting her off. She would have to find a way up there.

She noticed that the citadel had several towers about thirty feet high around it. The towers had structures that almost looked like bridges connecting them to the citadel. She did not know much about architecture so could not guess their purpose, but she did know that they were decorated in such a way, with strange mosaic patterns, that she might climb them. She decided that she might try to climb up into the citadel that way, though she would have to be careful not to fall.

Lilyon went to the nearest of the towers and putting her longbow around her shoulder she began her climb. She put her hands and feet where the mosaic pattern allowed and scaled the tower. It was hard at first, but after a few spells to allow her to grab onto the stones easier and not be as coarse to her skin she managed just fine.

About halfway up Lilyon saw out of the corner of her eye a pair of shapes coming towards her. She looked to see what they were and saw the battling Dragons Saphira and Magnora barreling towards her. They were about to smash into the tower she was climbing, so she held on tightly and hoped the impact would shake her off. They crashed into the tower, shaking it and Lilyon greatly. She managed to hold on and she looked down to see what the Dragons were doing.

The Magnora had been between Saphira and the tower, so she took the main brunt of the crash. Saphira got up first and began to fly away from the dazed Magnora. But the red-gold Dragon would not let her go and grabbed onto her sapphire tail with her teeth. Saphira yelped and was pulled down by Magnora into another tower. While their battle was captivating, Lilyon decided it was too dangerous to linger any longer and she continued her climb.

As she continued up, she occasionally glanced down at Saphira and Magnora's battle. Saphira had gotten free of Magnora's teeth and tried to fly away again, but the red-gold Dragon wouldn't let her. She pounced on her sapphire adversary and slammed her into a tower. She then whipped her tail around and hit Saphira on the snout with it.

Saphira's head reeled back, but then she snapped around and caught Magnora's tail in her mouth. Magnora pulled to get it back, but Saphira did not allow it. The sapphire Dragon then pulled Magnora towards her by the tail and buried her claws in the red-gold Dragon's back.

As Magnora screeched in pain, Saphira let go of her tail and pounced on her head. Saphira tried to pull the red-gold Dragon's head down, but while she was the elder she was not the stronger. Magnora grabbed onto Saphira's body and pushed her into one of the towers. The entire citadel shook as the tower crumbled and fell onto both of the Dragons. A cloud of stone dust billowed up to cover both of them, but Lilyon guessed that neither of them would be getting up soon.

As Lilyon got to the top of the tower, she saw another two Dragons battling. One was Haldthin and the other was just as large as him and had a blue-green complexion to its scales. They were keeping their battle restricted to the skies, so she didn't have to worry about any more towers falling. She guessed that the towers had some structural benefit and the citadel would not take kindly to any more being knocked over. She ran along the bridge-like structure up to the citadel hoping that Haldthin could hold his own as he would get no help from her or other Dragons.

Everyone had their own fight to fight. The Dragons loyal to Eragon outnumbered the Dragons loyal to the cause Lilyon had chosen to support. While Lilyon was seeking to help someone win theirs, she didn't want to get involved until she was behind a ballista.

After she had gone the length of the bridge to the citadel, she found that there was no evident way to get inside from there. It seemed that these weren't meant to be accessed the way they did, but then again, there were many things that were evidently not meant to be done but had been done, so she looked for an entrance. She saw a window some stories down, and decided that was her best option.

She would have liked a rope to catch her if she failed this jump, but she didn't bring any long enough so she would have to make due. She leapt off the bridge and fell towards the window. Fortunately it didn't have any glass in it, so when she made it she didn't have to pick shards of glass out of her clothes or flesh all day.

She found herself in a room that looked made up for some noble, but didn't have anyone in it. She was glad for that because she really didn't want to encounter anyone who might complain about her presence. She got to her feet and after leaving the room through the door, she began looking for a way to that ballista.

She knew that she wasn't on the right floor; that the ballista was higher up. After traveling the polished stone corridors of the citadel, she eventually found a winding staircase up. She climbed up the staircase to what she assumed was the floor the ballista was on and searched for it. She quickly found it and the balcony it was on and grinned—now she could fight.

Lilyon examined the ballista and found it without a crew or a projectile loaded. There were several arrows large enough for a ballista stacked nearby though, so she loaded one of them in. While they were heavy and perhaps more than one person might have tried to lift, she managed it with her Elven strength. After loading and winding back the ballista, she started picking a target.

She had to be careful who to fire at though. While some older Dragons might survive an arrow from a ballista, a younger one would stand almost no chance. She did not want to kill a Dragon today, seeing as how they needed every one they could to rebuild their numbers, but she did want to wound one.

She picked her target, a Dragon with bright green scales that—remembering how big Artsanna grew in the time she had known her—had to be about five years old. The Dragon was harassing one of the Dragons she knew had been with them on the flight to Ilirea, Valvesz's purple one that she didn't know the name of, so she knew it wasn't one of theirs. It could not be mistaken as Fírnen as they had different feature and their colors were ever so different. She positioned the ballista to fire on it, using careful aim not to hit the Dragon's opponent. Then she released.

The arrow flew through the air up to Dragons above. She quickly realized though that it was not going fast enough and was descending too rapidly to hit the green Dragon. It was going down towards one of the Dragons that had switched sides earlier in the battle. The white-gold Dragon was too young to survive an arrow like this, so Lilyon concocted a spell to stop the arrow. Once she spoke it, the spell drained her energy too quickly. She had failed to consider how far away the arrow was and the force behind it. Soon enough she had to stop her spell, but that meant letting it hit a Dragon.

She saw that the spell had affected the arrow enough to change its course towards a low hanging cloud. She was relieved both by the spell releasing and her at least moderate success in the matter. But she quickly became tired and collapsed. Her eyes closed with her wanting them to, but as they did she realized that the cloud wasn't a cloud.


	40. Through the Heart

Lynde was about to bring Iet'baen down on her Rider opponent when she felt herself be stabbed in the chest. Her breath left her in a gasp and she crumbled to her knees. The pain drowned out the sounds of battle around her, and she looked to her wound. But what she saw she couldn't believe; she had no wound or weapons sticking out of her chest. She realized that it was not her pain that she felt.

Lynde looked to the sky to, to where she knew she would find Artsanna, and saw her falling. She could not believe her eyes as she saw that one of the giant arrow-like projectiles from a ballista had stuck itself into Artsanna's chest and came out of her back. She fell to the ground with a crash of scales against stone. It was impossible.

Lynde dropped her sword and ran to Artsanna. Hot blood leaked from her body onto the white stone she had broken with her fall. Lynde could not feel any thoughts from Artsanna, only the pain she felt. She only hoped that Artsanna could be saved.

Lynde knelt beside Artsanna's head and looked into her red eyes. She was barely breathing. "Say something," she urged. When nothing came, she pushed the Dragon's head-plate, trying to shake her. "Say something!" she said, her voice barely a whisper as a catch formed in her throat.

As no reply came, Lynde felt tears begin to form. She tried to stop them, but could not, so she just let it out. She wept into Artsanna's cheek. "Please wake up," she sobbed. "Please."

There was no reply again, something Lynde didn't want to accept. This was her friend, no, more than a friend; this was her companion, her partner, her beloved. There was no word she knew that best described what they were to each other so she never tried to attach one to it. Artsanna had been there for her through so much and she didn't want to give her up.

She tried speaking a spell of healing, but she couldn't get the words out. Even if she could, she didn't have enough energy to repair the damage done to Artsanna. There was nothing she could do.

She closed her teary eyes against Artsanna's silver scales, not a part of her that wanted Artsanna to go, but nothing that would aid in stopping it. That was when she heard the Dragon's voice, broken and pained as Lynde thought she looked. _Lynde,_ she said. Lynde raised her head and opened her blurry eyes. _Lynde, I… I want to live._

 _I want you to live too,_ Lynde whispered with her mind. _But there's nothing I can do._

 _Maybe somewhere… there is a… healer,_ Artsanna said, trying to work a sentence through the pain.

Lynde, now seeing a way to fix this, stood up and looked to the battle. She hadn't noticed this before, but everyone had stopped fighting. The Riders, whose swords had rung against each other, had fallen silent. The Dragons' roaring had quieted and now there was only the beating of their wings. The Elven warriors who came to reinforce Alaric's Riders had stopped. All now looked upon Lynde and Artsanna in silence.

Lynde did not care why it had stopped, but cried at the small crowd, "Someone, please help us." She looked into the faces of the Riders. Human, Elf, Dwarf, and Urgal all had the same kind of expression: one of shock. She didn't care, but did care about whether they would do anything or not. "Please, could someone help her?" she screamed. "She's going to die!"

Lynde crumpled to the ground, struck with a new wave of grief. Artsanna was going to die if they let her, and it seemed to her that they were. If they weren't going to help, she would have to do it herself.

As she turned back to Artsanna to try a healing spell again, a voice came from the crowd. "I will help." Lynde looked behind her and saw Kaesdir run up to her. His sword had been cast aside and now he looked at the Dragon in grief. He spoke a short spell and then went quiet. He looked to Lynde and said, "There's nothing I can do."

Lynde didn't want to believe it; she couldn't believe it. She would not let Artsanna die like this! Lynde grabbed onto Kaesdir's tunic and cried, "You have to do something!"

Kaesdir did not brush her away, but looked on her with sad eyes. "I know that there is no healer here with the skill to heal Artsanna. Her heart was damaged beyond what most magic can heal, and we would need to remove the projectile first, which could result in massive blood loss. We don't have the time to heal her. I can make her more comfortable, but…"

Lynde knew what he meant as she let him go. "You've can't save her."

"I cannot save her body," Kaesdir said. "But there is something I can do." Lynde looked to Kaesdir questioningly as he knelt beside Artsanna. He spoke to Artsanna with his mind, and while Lynde tried to listen, their bond was too full of pain and sorrow for her to hear anything. She could only wonder what he said as her tears began to dry.

Soon Artsanna began to cough and hack, making Lynde look to the Dragon's mouth. She spat out blood and began to spasm violently. Lynde feared it was because of what Kaesdir said to her, but more likely she was about to die. This was it.

Her spasms and coughs became more violent until finally she spat something solid out that rang when it touched the stone ground. Artsanna was now quiet. Lynde looked on her and realized she was dead; that was it. It didn't feel like she was dead, but she was. As Lynde draped herself over the Dragon's head, she heard her say, _I am alive._

Lynde felt her eyes widen with surprise and she looked at Artsanna with confusion. Her eyes and breathing were still. She did not move, and yet Lynde still felt her presence. _Artsanna?_ she called with her mind.

Lynde felt Artsanna guide her towards the object she had spat out moments ago. She approached the blood covered thing and looked at it strangely. _Clean it off,_ Artsanna commanded. Lynde picked it up and wiped the blood off on the end of her gambeson.

Once it was clean she could see it clearly. It was a small gem the shape of a diamond or lozenge as she had heard it called. It was two or three inches long at most and was a grayish white color. But it felt strange somehow, and Artsanna said, _You now hold my Eldunarí, Lynde; my heart of hearts._

Lynde now knew what Kaesdir had said was how to dislodge her heart of hearts, and that now the silver Dragon would not die. She was not safe either, being more vulnerable than at any point in her life since she had hatched. She could be smashed easily by those with malice and had no way to keep herself from being stolen. But she was alive, and that was what Lynde was thankful for.

Lynde could sense Artsanna's feeling of vulnerability and nakedness now that she had no body. She tried to lay her fears to rest saying, _I will protect you now, Artsanna. I protected you once, and now I'll do it again._

Artsanna at least tried to be glad. _Thank you._

Lynde knew Artsanna could not regain her old body, so she did something she didn't like but would do for the one most dear to her heart. She opened her mind to Artsanna and let her in. She allowed her thoughts to meld with Artsanna's in a greater fashion than she ever had before. But Artsanna did not completely take over either, and the two felt themselves become one. They felt different now.

Lynde's legs lifted them up as her arms nestled the Eldunarí close to her body. They were not truly Lynde or Artsanna any longer. They were not one or the other, as they admitted. They could not even be called "they" anymore, or at least it didn't feel right to. They were just she, and she was Silberlind.

Silberlind looked at the Riders, the Eldunarí in her grasp, and shouted with dry eyes, "No more! No more shall any die for the treachery of Galbatorix. Today the war ends, and I shall end it no matter who is guilty."

"Alaric is guilty!" an Elf Rider with a rust colored sword said. "Stop him!"

"I wish that were true," Silberlind said, not being able to withhold her sorrow from them, "but Eragon was the one corrupted and Eragon will be stopped."

"Then you will have to fight me first!" the Elf shouted. Some other Riders and their Dragons spoke similarly, almost as if they had been corrupted as well. They had been supremely loyal to Eragon most recently, and this did not seem any more out of character. But their comrades turned on them, and swords that were once pointed towards Alaric's Riders were pointed at those most loyal to Eragon. They might give a fight, but they couldn't win.

Silberlind went and picked up Iet'baen, but as she did, Ivuldr grabbed her arm. "Let me help you, Lynde. The others will fight and guard Eragon's lackeys and take care of those who were wounded."

She smiled and said, "Thank you, Ivuldr, for your aid." He grinned back. "But that is not my name." He now had confusion cross his face. "I am that which is both Lynde and Artsanna. Our minds are one now, though we have two brains. Now," she raised the Eldunarí into his view, "we are Silberlind."


	41. The Strings Are Cut

Arlen tried to keep up with Eragon, but it wasn't easy. He had to run just to be as fast as Eragon's marching. Fortunately Eragon hadn't noticed him yet, so he hadn't tried to kill him yet. Though with how much running he was doing, he wanted Eragon to notice him a little just so that he wouldn't tire himself out too badly before the duel. He was made for walking, not sprinting, so this could soon prove too much for him.

Just as he came to an intersection where Eragon had gone straight, a hand came out one of the other ways and caught him by the throat. The pressure on his windpipe was unbearable, but as he grasped the hand trying to loosen it, it seemed smaller than his. The person whose hand it was stepped out from hiding and allowed Arlen to see her face. The hate-filled sunken red eyes were unmistakable, as was the rest of her pale face. With a gasp of breath he named his attacked, "Tyra."

Her eyes remained as cold and hateful as the Shade replied, "Arlen, what a pleasant surprise." Arlen went to draw his sword, but Tyra grabbed his hand tightly and wouldn't let go. "You know, Arlen, I wasn't going to kill you today, but since it won't take too long I think I'll make an opening in my schedule just for you."

Tyra took Mor'ranr from its sheath and put the point to his stomach. Desperately thinking of anything that might buy him time, he remembered something about Tyra. She loved it when she controlled Lynde to attack him and that was before she hated him, so she must have enjoyed controlling people in some way. Perhaps there was a part of her that loved being in control of someone's fate and letting them know that. It would be easy to manipulate this part of her just to get some more time. All he had to do was ask her a question that had occurred to him already, "What are you doing here?"

Tyra lowered her chin and intensified her gaze. For a brief moment he didn't think his plan had worked, that she would kill him anyway. But then she threw him onto the ground without injury and began to speak.

"You see, Arlen, the Shade Council has lived on even with only one member," Tyra said with a slight smile. Arlen was relieved to know his plan was working, but tried not to let it show. "Its mission remains to destroy, but I think I'd like to do something a little different than what Vras or Raud wanted to do. They wanted to destroy everything in their own ways, but I like having power over others and you can't do that without someone around, so I had a thought."

As Tyra's smiled continued to grow, Arlen knew he had more time to come up with a plan of attack. Of course he couldn't fight her without a sword, so he would need to get one. He eyed the sword Tyra had brought with her, but he had no idea how he would get it.

As he continued to plan, Tyra continued to speak. "With the recent conflict, many of the most powerful men in the world have come out to fight. While some might flee from them, others don't watch ravens for fun. Ravens find carcasses that other, more powerful animals, have killed and take what is left. I shall do the same and finish off everyone who has been left alive but beaten because of either misguided respect or necessity because of the authority they wield and the hole it would leave to kill them."

Arlen was not surprised that Tyra would do such a thing, but he did feel more urgently that he needed to stop her. She was going to kill Alaric, someone he had valued as a comrade. She also probably intended to kill Queen Arya, decapitating the Elven leadership. While it would have been difficult to defeat them normally, now they were left wounded in the throne room along with Murtagh. She probably intended to kill Eragon too. He couldn't let her do any of that, so he had to come up with a plan and quickly before she decided to kill him.

As Tyra strode over to him, probably to use Mor'ranr to kill him, he used the one weapon she hadn't taken from him. While it was a gamble considering her prowess with hers, he had no other option he could see. As he stood up, he attacked Tyra with his mind.

He charged her with a sword of determination. She was caught unawares it seems, and he gained a small foothold before she could fight back. Once she did fight him, he was completely overpowered and retreated to the defenses of his mind. But he noticed that she had stopped walking, and that meant he could strike her physically, even if it was a great risk.

While keeping his thoughts behind a shield of anger that he had accumulated ever since he discovered her pursuit of him, he ran over to her and took her sword from her belt. Once it had been drawn, he kicked her in the stomach and she groaned and grasped it. She was about to lunge Mor'ranr at him when he attacked her ill defended mind. Now, so focused on the physical, she had forgotten the mental and left herself open to attack.

Once inside her mind he filled it with memories of pain. Pain that was so great he could not forget it to this day. His ribs breaking under Raud's kick, Lynde slashing him in the back, his shoulder being dislocated, and the many injuries inflicted upon him by the Ra'zac were all things he used to bring down Tyra. But then he felt a new pain; that of being stabbed in the side by Tyra. He heard himself yell and he looked away from Tyra's mind to see the black sword Mor'ranr being lodged in his flesh.

With the fresh pain he could not defend his mind any longer. Tyra came in and filled his thoughts with those of pains worse than any he had experienced. As he laid in torment, words came in his mind from Tyra. They had a cruel tone and color, but seemed self-satisfied at the same time. _I have fought for longer than you have with sword and mind. You thought you could best me with both?_

Arlen could not answer as he was consumed with pain. He wished he could do something to stop it, but he had nothing. He could stop her as much as he could stop a forest fire from continuing to burn or a wave to come on the beach. There was nothing he could do; he had failed.

Then suddenly the pain ended except for the pain in his side and Tyra withdrew. He looked up from where he laid and saw Tyra looking towards something else. Arlen followed her gaze and saw someone nearby. It was an Elf who had been with Lynde when he encountered her outside at the gateway. The Elf man had black hair and a curved white-gold sword. He looked at him as Tyra did and she said coolly, "Who are you then?"

"I am Ivuldr of House Haldthin," the Elf man resolutely stated. "I am the Rider bonded to Almei, who is of nine months, and was trained by Razrok of Tribe Ugnok. I am a warrior sharpened by training with Lynde of Cathalorn. My blade is Garjzla forged by Rhunön the swordsmith of the Dragon Riders. I urge you to stand down before I am forced to kill you."

Tyra simply replied without humor, "No."

Ivuldr shook his head at her almost condescendingly. "I fear for your souls, Shade, but soon you will not have to."

Ivuldr leapt upon Tyra so fast even she was surprised. He attacked with a series of fast strikes that Tyra was barely able to block. He then began to move around her so that she was between him and Arlen. It was now that he realized what was doing and struck.

Arlen picked up the sword he'd stolen from Tyra and plunged it into Tyra's back through her heart. He heard her gasp, and she went to her knees. Arlen removed the sword from Tyra, and she twisted her head and body around to look at him. Fear was in her eyes in her final moments. Fear was there as she split into black lights and disappeared. And then she was gone leaving behind Mor'ranr and not much else.

Arlen looked to Ivuldr as he collapsed to the ground, his wound getting the better of him. As he bled out, the Elf began to speak spells. He heard the spells just as he slipped into darkness.


	42. Victorious

Silberlind dashed through the hallways of the citadel, searching for some trace of Eragon. The sound of her boots echoed through the brown stone hallways as she ran. While she hadn't expected it to be easy to find him, she had hoped it would have been easier than this.

She ran without Ivuldr, who had seen something that—while he did not describe it—could not ignore. While she was a bit betrayed that he did not want to come and fight Eragon with her, it sounded important and she accepted that. She trusted Ivuldr's judgement and his loyalty, so she was confident that he was only doing what he thought was right.

Silberlind ran down the halls until she came across a passage downwards. It was made a black stone as polished as the rest of the interior, but shaped in unusual and twisted ways. In front of it lay two guards, soldiers of the Empire, one with no head and another with a belly wound and jagged breathing. She went to the guard she could help and spoke a spell to heal the man. As the blood stopped and the wound began to close, she asked the man, "Did Eragon come through here?"

"Yes," the soldier said, his voice clearly pitched with pain. "We tried to stop him, but… Ah!"

"Calm down," Silberlind urged as she tried to make her voice as soothing as possible. A part of his tunic had gotten into the wound, which caused him pain and wound make healing difficult. She removed the cloth and continued the spell. She then asked, "What's beyond here?"

"Queen Nasuada's vault," the soldier said, the pain in his voice lessening. "She chose to lock herself in there until the battle's end. Eragon would…"

"I know what Eragon would do," Silberlind said when the soldier trailed off. "You just rest and I'll handle Eragon." The soldier nodded and Silberlind left him to rest. While his wound was healed, she wouldn't bring him into battle, not after what he went through. She would fight Eragon alone.

It was strange that she did not feel more fear. Eragon was not an opponent to be trifled with, and she would have to be careful in fighting him, but she did not fear him anymore. She did not know why, but perhaps the merging of minds that made her helped her see Eragon as just a man and nothing more. Or she just did not feel fear yet, one or the other. In any case, as she strode into the dark passage she felt no fear.

She marched down the black steps down into a hallway that was completely made of polished black stone. While there were white patterns like spider webs running through the stone, it was dominantly black. She wondered why the color of stone differed from one level to another, but she had no one to ask so would not for now.

She went through the hallway, her path lit by white lamps, until she found Eragon. The chamber he was in had a high ceiling and the walls were far from each other. He paced back and forth in front of a large black door with no apparent lock or handle. Not only did he seem frustrated by the obstacle, he also seemed injured. His left arm was limp at his side and the blood on his tunic had to be his own at least in part. He held his sword Brisingr at his side with a tight fist as he noticed Silberlind. His face contorted to show his rage as he said, "Why do you come here?"

"To stop you from plunging the Empire into chaos," Silberlind replied passively. She took her sheath from her shoulder and drew Iet'baen. As she discarded the sheath she said, "If you do not stand down, I may be forced to use my sorrow to end your fire."

"I doubt you could, Lynde," Eragon replied angrily. "Now leave, child, before I kill you."

His threat did not make Silberlind waver nor feel anger. She was not there for revenge or justice but to stop what might be. She could see talk would not do her any good, so all she said to him was, "My name is Silberlind."

She pointed her sword and lunged at Eragon. He quickly parried and advanced towards her. She backed up and struck again, swinging her sword at his left shoulder. He blocked the strike, but slower than she would have thought he would. He was clearly tired, and so she would have the advantage.

Eragon with his blade to Iet'baen charged, sliding the sword together to make a screeching sound. The blades traveled up each other until Eragon was right in front of her and he raised his sword to strike her. She managed to raise her arm guard by a vambrace to block it, but she still felt the edge of the sword cut into her flesh. She winced and slashed Eragon in the side with Iet'baen. He gasped and backed away, but not fast enough as she then thrusted her massive blade at Eragon's right arm. He parried and was able to retreat.

Silberlind pressed the advantage and swung her sword at his left leg to cripple him. She moved her body with the sword, and while it made her intention obvious, it also made it so that the attack had more force. Eragon leapt over the blade at first and then stomped on it. He wrenched it out of her hands and it clattered on the ground. She had no weapon and he had the advantage.

Silberlind could tell when a battle was unwinnable, and chose rather than to stay and die to turn and run. She had only taken a few strides when something grabbed and threw her to the wall. Eragon then stood in front of her with a blade to her throat. As she stared into his fearsome brown eyes he asked, "Why? Why did you betray me?"

Silberlind knew why, but the truth may warrant her death. But even if she died telling the truth, it was better than Eragon living in lies. She mustered her courage and said, "You are the Corrupted One."

"I am not the Corrupted One!" he snarled, his blade shaking. He withdrew Brisingr from Silberlind's throat and turned his back to her. "I am not the Corrupted One!" he yelled again. He then turned, swinging his blade, and Silberlind ducked. His sword caused sparks against the wall where Silberlind's neck had been. Again he yelled, "I am not the Corrupted One!"

Silberlind dashed for her sword, all the while avoiding Eragon's wild swings. His technique and style were gone, replaced with blind rage. His rage was channeled through his voice as he said, "I am not the Corrupted One!"

Silberlind grasped Iet'baen's handle and swung it around towards Eragon. He batted the sword away with increased difficultly. He then swung at her head, which she blocked. His arm was getting weaker for some reason as it was easy to resist his strength. He was almost spent.

"I am not the Corrupted One," he said once more, tears streaming down his eyes. He shouted "Brisingr" but unlike in legend, his sword did not light. There was no fabled blue fire, only a blue blade and a confused man. He still swung at Silberlind with the last of his strength, which she sidestepped and plunged Iet'baen into his midsection. Brisingr fell from his grasp as he looked at the silver sword in his flesh. He then met Silberlind's gaze with fearing eyes and said brokenly, "I am the Corrupted One."

Silberlind withdrew the sword and Eragon collapsed onto the ground. His energy, strength, and spirit were spent. Now all that was left was the husk of a man too tired to go on. He had made mistakes he thought were right, but only caused pain and suffering, and now faced with that he regretted it. He was human.

Silberlind saw a bit of herself in Eragon. It was the bit that regretted her mistakes; that weighed her down and kept her from moving forward. It was the part of her that she had overcome with help, but now Eragon had none of it. So Silberlind chose to show him mercy and knelt down beside him to heal his wounds.

No matter how flawed a person was or how many mistakes they made, she would still show them mercy and understanding. She had been there once, perhaps too recently. But now she would give him a gift that she had been given by another part of herself. Perhaps with this gift he could be made whole once again.


	43. Fate of the Empowered

Arlen watched as Eragon walked between the rows of people in the citadel's throne room. What only a few days ago was a place of battle and pain was now a place of judgement. Those who judged were Elf Queen Arya, Dwarf King Orik—who arrived only a few hours after the battle of Ilirea had ended—and High Queen Nasuada. While Arlen felt that there were other leaders to be told this, it was not his decision to make when Eragon made his announcement, even if everyone knew what it was.

Eragon was leaving Alagaësia for good this time. After all he had done since his return, his punishment would only be carried out by himself. Perhaps this was the best way to do it; to show the Riders are above the judgement of others but not each other. Eragon was leader of all the Dragon Riders, and not even he was above the justice he could inflict upon himself. While it was only a rumor, it was a rumor that was most likely true.

The crowd that had been assembled here was very different. Many were Elder or senior Riders, including Alaric and Kaesdir, while others would be unwelcome anywhere else like Murtagh the Traitor. Many people of power were here as well, lords and the like, but they were few compared to the number of Riders and warriors here. They had all come out to see Eragon and what decision he had made.

Oddly enough, he did not see Lynde in the crowds. He had heard of how Lynde had defeated Eragon, and he would have thought that she would have wanted to be here more than anyone all things considered. But he also heard what happened to Artsanna; about her death and how Rose had caused it. He understood why Rose wasn't there, being bed ridden, but why wasn't Lynde? But then he considered that perhaps she was there and he just couldn't see here; after all, many people had come to see Eragon's judgement.

Eragon knelt down before the throne where Queen Nasuada sat and placed Brisingr at its base. To Nasuada's right stood Queen Arya, her sword grasped in her hands but pointed downward, and to her left was King Orik. Out of all of them, Queen Arya looked the most like she was angry but the others were more solemn. Eragon was only pleading. "Rulers of Alagaësia I submit the judgement that shall stand for myself and those I corrupted."

Arlen had heard of what he did to some of the Riders under his command. He altered their minds, entering them and changing them to be supremely loyal to him. While some resisted his mental attacks, others were less fortunate; others he corrupted.

Queen Nasuada looked down on Eragon and said, "What is your judgement then?"

"Exile to the Unknown Lands until they can be trusted again," Eragon declared, his voice weighed down by some unseen burden. That was it; he was going to leave for good.

King Orik stepped forward, carrying a large hammer as he did. He pleaded with Eragon, saying, "Know, Eragon, that time does not heal all wounds. Some Riders may not ever return if their kind has long memories such as the Dwarves or Elves."

"I have considered this," Eragon almost gasped. "But they cannot do the task set out for them if the people they protect do not trust them. While in the Unknown Lands, they will be given the care and treatment they need to undo… to undo the damage I did to them."

Queen Arya raised her chin, looking down upon Eragon. "And why should we let you go through with this?" she asked coldly. "It is not the only path that need be taken."

"But it is," Eragon replied. "For the good of Alagaësia and the good of the Riders, we must leave."

Queen Arya looked down to her feet. Her voice almost sounded like it was breaking but she tried to hold it together as it did. "If that is the way it must be, then let it be so."

"Let it be so," King Orik said.

"Let it be so," Queen Nasuada said. Eragon rose to his feet, but so did Queen Nasuada. She seemed saddened but also relieved as she declared to every person in the throne room, "I have decided that I cannot remain queen any longer." There was a general gasp and some whispering, but Nasuada continued. "After my stubborn and foolish pride cost the deaths of so many, I cannot remain queen. As Eragon has decided, I have decided too. I leave the throne and Ilirea behind and will wander the world. Though I do this with a heavy heart and no clear heir, I look forward to what I will do with my newfound freedom." Arlen was almost sure she looked to Murtagh when she said that.

Nasuada—no longer queen now—stepped off the throne and followed Eragon out of the throne room. Arlen didn't know what was in store for the Empire after this, but without the mistakes of overconfident leaders perhaps healing could begin. He couldn't know for sure and didn't know if he would ever find out what would happen, but hoped all would turn out right.

Arlen left the throne room with the masses soon after Eragon and Nasuada had, heading for the room he'd been given. He went through hallways, up many perhaps too many flights of stairs, and to a door before he got to the borrowed room. There he opened the door and entered the room.

He didn't care for the lavish furniture of the room nor the servant at the door asking if he wanted anything. He went straight for the window even though he knew he'd only be miserable if he did. He looked out over the city to the plains outside the walls. There he could see the patch of dirt where he had seen Artsanna's body buried.

It was strange to think of her as dead. Last he saw of her, she was alive and well. They were in battle, yes, but no other Dragon was mortally wounded other than her. She was the only one to die, and he had heard that almost everyone chose to stop fighting after that. So why did she have to die?

Why did she have to stop the fighting? There was nothing about her that would make her death more meaningful to the Riders. Any death would have done, so all Arlen could wonder was why it had to be her.

He wanted to hate Rose, but couldn't. While she may have been the one to kill her, she did not mean to kill anyone according to what he heard. It was an accident that she was killed. He wanted to hate someone else then; Eragon, Alaric, anyone, but he couldn't. There was no one to fight, no one to take vengeance on or bring to justice. He was useless as was his guilt.

He found it strange that he should outlive Artsanna. She was a Dragon, an undying creature as he had heard. She wouldn't have died from old age, so the fact that he outlived her didn't sit well with him. It would have been natural for him to die, but not her; she could only die from the sword or sickness. Well maybe not a sword, but violence in general—he really didn't want to see the sword that could kill an adult Dragon, or the man to wield it. He was surprised with how things had turned out and more than upset.

Artsanna was his friend and comrade. As his father would have said, they were shield mates but without shields. They were warriors bound in friendship and the blood of others. They had seen and fought things most people of Cathalorn could only imagine. They had each killed when it was necessary to protect, even if it was just Lynde they were protecting. He had also seen glimpses of her soul through their conversations and when they were separated from Lynde and Rose when the two were captured. They were not like his friends in Cathalorn who dreamt of adventure; they had lived it and knew what it cost and what the true joys of it were.

Now Arlen would never again talk to her. He would never again fight alongside her for a common goal or eat meals together. He had only seen her a short time when last they met, and it wasn't enough for a farewell. He wanted to talk to her again if only so that he could say goodbye.

There came a knock at the door and he looked towards it. He didn't know who could be calling on him, though it could have been Lynde or Rose. Hoping it was Lynde he called, "Come in."

He was disappointed when the door opened and Kaesdir walked through. His face was solemn as he said, "Good tidings to you, Arlen."

"Hello to you to, Kaesdir," Arlen said, a little confused by his greeting.

After a short pause, Kaesdir slowly walked to the window. He looked out it and frowned. "If I had known you were given a view of Artsanna's grave, I would have traded rooms with you to spare you from such a sight."

"I needed to know," Arlen replied with perhaps a bit too much hostility in his voice.

"Yes well, there are many things that one believes they need to know and yet they should not," Kaesdir said almost wistfully. He was hinting at something, but Arlen couldn't guess it. He wouldn't ask though as he had learned to let those who liked to be cryptic stew until they stopped being that way. "It is a hard thing to lose someone, but you should focus on what you have not lost."

Arlen thought of his family in Cathalorn. At first it helped, but then he remembered that his family was missing a father and it started to weigh him down again. He thought of his friends, but some had been taken by the Ra'zac and the Urgals. Then he thought of Leonie; precious Leonie. She had never been in battle and never tried to be. She was strong, but not like most people who could only prove their strength through battle. He loved her not only because she was strong but because she did not remind him of any pain other than the pain of separation. He decided to end that pain and said to Kaesdir, "I want to go home. Could you and Haldthin take me there?"

"Is that any way to spend your debt to me, Arlen?" Kaesdir said almost passively. "You think by using us as transportation through Alagaësia you can stretch your debt out?"

Arlen wasn't amused by that assumption. "I don't care about the debt any more. How would I even spend it? All I want is to go home and be left alone. Let the debt rot away and die, never to be paid."

Kaesdir shook his head. "That is not how men of my house pay our debts."

"Then what is the way? By keeping me in Ilirea?" Arlen asked.

"No," Kaesdir replied. "My family is a noble house. My father was a member who was more off to the side, but many of us have become Riders just in this generation of them. It is astonishing. Almost to declare it to all, Haldthin named himself after my family. House Haldthin is our name. My cousins and I have become Riders, proud and noble—perhaps too proud. But today I offer you a chance to come to our home in Ellesméra where you will be welcomed and comforted."

Arlen was touched and confused by his offer. Touched in the sense that Kaesdir was opening his house to him and confused as to why. "Why do this for me?"

"Because if you go back now, you will bring the war and sorrow with you," Kaesdir explained. "In Ellesméra you will be lulled into being a warrior no longer. I know not what you would do without it, but you will cast aside your warrior nature and become a peaceful man as every warrior wishes to be."

It sounded unbelievable to Arlen and not in that he was excited. He did not think that any place, no matter how great, could make him forget or feel better about any of this. But it couldn't hurt too badly to try, and it wasn't as if Kaesdir would take him north without this stop. He sighed and said, "Fine. I'll go to your home. But promise me that you will not hold me against my will too long."

"As you wish it so shall it be," Kaesdir said, and smile creeping onto his face. "I hope there you will find the rest you need." The rest Arlen needed was in his own bed, not a forest. But if going through a forest was the only way there, he'd do it.


	44. Deadly Guilt

Silberlind walked through the sunlit hallways of the citadel, searching for Rose's room. She had been told that Rose was here and was terribly weakened from the battle. She had also been told that it was Rose who shot Artsanna, so she wanted to see how well she was taking the grief. While she had not actually killed Artsanna, that was what she believed.

No one could know of Artsanna's survival due to the nature of it. The Eldunarí was a closely guarded secret of the Riders. Most students didn't even know of their existence despite there being more Eldunarya than living Dragons. She had been told that the only person who knew of their existence and was not bonded to a Dragon was the former Queen Nasuada. While it seemed cruel to her not to let Rose or Arlen know that Artsanna still lived, it was for the protection of the other Eldurnarya that she had to keep quiet about it. She just wished that it wasn't so hard for her to keep it.

Silberlind found herself outside the door to Rose's room where Volyeth sat outside. The Elven Rider was a good friend of Rose's after all and probably wished to guard her. Though why she was outside was beyond Silberlind. Silberlind looked down and asked her, "What are you doing out here and not in there?"

Volyeth looked up and said, "Lilyon—or Rose as you call her—does not want to be disturbed by anyone. I tried seeing her, but she does not want to see anyone."

Silberlind frowned. Rose needed to hear what she had to say as it would alleviate some of the guilt she felt about Artsanna. While she should not tell her what she needed to know, there was something that would at least help. She said to Volyeth, "I will see her even if she does not want it."

Volyeth gestured to the door and said, "Be my guest, but I doubt you will get far with her. She is in a terrible state. I have only seen her this distraught once before when her sister died, but this is different. She is angry at herself more than anyone else."

Silberlind knew what that meant as she had gone through it as Lynde. She would comfort Rose best she could, but she would have to forgive herself for this or else she would not be herself again. Silberlind opened the door and went through.

Rose was lying on a bed in the middle of the room. Silberlind had been told that she altered her appearance to what she looked like as an Elf and she believed it. She hardly recognized her face as she quickly sat up. She did recognize the anger in her voice though as she said, "Get out!"

Rose had picked up a vase of flower from her bedside table and prepared to throw it at Silberlind when she suddenly stopped. Her eyes met Silberlind's and she put down the vase. She looked like the deer she hunted when they realized that they were being watched. Her voice drained of anger and there was nothing left in her voice but sadness as she said, "Lynde? Is that you?"

Silberlind knew that no one called her by her true name but those who knew. Anyone other than a Rider would call her Lynde, but Riders knew who she truly was now. While she had been used to the name before, it almost seemed like a lie to respond to it now. "Yes it is me," she replied to Rose.

Rose bowed her head with her hands over her face. "I'm so sorry, Lynde," she cried. "I didn't know! I didn't know how it worked or who would be hurt because of my ignorance. No, not only ignorance, arrogance. I was an arrogant fool to try and do what I did. And now Artsanna is dead."

Silberlind sat down next to Rose on the bed and put her hand on her old mentor's shoulder. "You could not have known," she said. "I know what you are going through and I want to say that I forgive you." Rose looked up at Silberlind quizzically. "I forgive the mistake you made and who made the mistake. It was an accident that you don't need to abuse yourself for."

Rose shook her head. "You are a child, Lynde. No matter how old you grow, you will still be a child. You still do not understand that even if you forgive me, Artsanna cannot, and that is where the problem lies. I can never atone for this."

"But you don't need to," Silberlind said. It was torture to keep the secret of Artsanna's survival, but it was out of her control. She could not tell her no matter how much she wanted to. She had to find another way to bring her peace.

Rose shook her head. "I wish now only for the chance to be free of this world. To be free and discover the place everyone goes to and no one comes back from. I want to discover if there is an afterlife and where Tuami is in it."

Silberlind felt her eyes widen and stomach sink. Was she going to kill herself? Silberlind grabbed rose with both hands and said, "No, Rose. You have too much to live for."

"What do I have to live for?" Rose asked teary eyed. "I am exiled from my own people, an outsider among any other, and will never die but through violence or sickness. No old age will take me as it takes Humans. I know not how long you will live without Artsanna, but it will be difficult living without her I'm sure."

Silberlind would have liked nothing more than to tell Rose the truth, but she couldn't. It would most definitely save her, but she did not want to betray the trust of the Riders or the secrecy of the Eldunarya. Instead she told Rose, "Artsanna would want you to live as I do. My days are limited because of my commitment to the Riders, but yours do not have to be. Live until the end of time and be glad when the suffering of the world is over. But don't take your own life. If you want to be done with fighting, then do something else—something that uses your other skills."

"I have no other skills," Rose said. "I was taught only to fight. I was practically born for it. How can I do anything else?"

Silberlind thought for a moment and said, "You're a good teacher. Maybe someone needs to be taught."

Rose lowered her head as if in thought. Silberlind hoped they were good thoughts about living and not dying. Rose looked to Silberlind and said, "If I… if I can live on with this weight, then I can't do it alone. I can't do it with you either."

"Then let Volyeth help you," Silberlind pleaded. "You have known her for many years and all she wants to do is help you." She pointed to the door. "She is outside right now because she loves you. I don't know why she treats you like family, but let her be your family even if you can't have your real one."

Rose looked to the door and then looked back to Silberlind. "You're right." She then looked to the door and called for Volyeth. As Volyeth came in, Rose said to Silberlind, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Silberlind said with a smile. She had saved Rose from her own guilt and now Volyeth was here to help her get the rest of the way. While she didn't know how Elven culture worked, she thought it would be lovely if next she saw Rose she had a family—a real family—but perhaps that was too much to ask for.

Silberlind left Rose's room soon after and went walking. She didn't know when Ivuldr came beside her, but he was there and he asked, "So is your friend going to be alright?"

Silberlind nodded. "She is strong. She just has to use her strength."

"Good," Ivuldr replied. After a pause, he asked, "So most of the Riders are leaving tomorrow for the Tower. Are you going with them?"

For a moment that sounded like a good idea, but then she realized something. The egg! The egg that was born from Artsanna and Baeguirn was now without a proper Dragon mother. While she could go back to it, would it accept her as the mother? Could an Eldunarí be a mother to a Dragon hatchling? She did not want to face it, so she said to Ivuldr, "I believe I will stay behind for now."

Ivuldr nodded. "So can I show you something?"

Silberlind cocked an eyebrow. "What exactly?"

"My family home," Ivuldr said. "Remember how we talked of visiting each other's homes? Well I want to show you it now before we waste any more time."

Silberlind shook her head. "I do not know if I want to."

"It will be relaxing," Ivuldr said. His voice seemed sincere and when his descriptions of his home came to mind it sounded better to her than lingering in Ilirea. "I promise you that you won't regret going."

Silberlind gave in and said, "Very well. I shall go, but only if I can ride with you. I am currently lacking wings."

Ivuldr laughed and said, "It's a deal."


	45. Deciding Their Fates

Arlen smelled the sweet air of Ellesméra and felt warm inside. Despite it being nearly winter, the forest of the Elves felt like spring right now. In the days since Kaesdir had brought him there, he had learned to enjoy the serenity of the forests around the ancestral home of the Elven Rider. In this place he found something that every warrior longed for: peace.

As the gentle wind blew by his face, he stood up from the branches that had been shaped into a chair by some long forgotten Elven spellcaster. As much as he could stay there forever, he felt like he needed a bath and Kaesdir had told him of some hot springs nearby he could take one in. He walked away from the house and towards the wood where the springs were at a slow pace.

As Arlen walked he thought about Haldthin's house and the one thing that seemed to be missing from it. While there were many adult Elves of varying ages, they all looked around the same age and no child played in the halls. How could a house be called a home if there weren't any children? While it wasn't his place to judge, he thought that a child or two might liven up the place or at least make him feel like he wasn't the youngest person staying there—though there was some mention of another guest, he had never met them so could not reckon their age.

After a walk he found the woods thickening, which was sure sign that the springs were ahead. After all, Kaesdir had told him that the trees around their house were most dense where the springs were, so as to ensure privacy. The entrances to the springs were open though, but they could be closed with drapes that were each held above by ropes. While a couple were closed, there were more that were open.

Though what caught his eye was the woman who hadn't lowered the drape over the entrance. She was fully clothed and seemed to be content to stay that way. He could only see her from behind, but she seemed to be dipping her feet in the pool the spring created. She didn't seem to be an Elf, as she didn't have pointed ears but did have brown hair—though there was one Elf he could think of who used to look like that. The slumped way she sat seemed familiar somehow, so he walked closer to see why he thought so.

He saw that she was garbed in a dress and mantle made by the Elves and wore a silver neckless with an amulet. The amulet had a grayish white gem set in it that was somewhat large, and it seemed as though the amulet was made around the gem. A pair of worn leather boots was besides her as she dipped her bare feet in the pool. Her face was familiar somehow, but it took him a second to realize who it was. "Lynde?" he asked. "Is that you?"

She turned her head to meet him, and sure enough he was right; it was Lynde. Smiled at him softly and said, "Hello, Arlen."

This was unbelievable. It was unbelievable that he and Lynde could have met here by accident. It had to be part of some plan thought up by Kaesdir. But then again, he wasn't angry. No matter how they had come together, he was glad to see his old friend again. Arlen laughed for joy and said, "Lynde, it's good to see you again."

Lynde nodded. "It is good to see you as well."

Arlen sat down beside her, wanting to catch up. While he did want to know how she was doing since Artsanna died, he wouldn't ask her right away. He asked about all sorts of little things, not trying to bring back any bad memories. He asked about little things, like the neckless. Her answer was vague about it though. "The Elves gave it to me," she said. He didn't know why she would be given something like that, but wouldn't ask right away. She had just lost someone that was very dear to her and would be very heartbroken because of it.

After a long time of answering questions that had no meaning, she asked something back. It surprised Arlen, but at least she was being honest. "You want to know how I have been since Artsanna's death, don't you?"

Arlen nodded. "I'm worried about you, Lynde. After I heard she was dead I… well I wasn't happy. I can only imagine how you feel though."

"I feel fine," Lynde replied. She hesitated before continuing. "Artsanna was always going to die in battle, and this was just the battle for it to happen in. As much as I wish I could have had more time with her, I must accept what has happened."

This seemed unlike her. Normally she was more emotional than this, but now she seemed more at peace than she had been in a long time. Perhaps Artsanna's death had broken her so much that now she would be free, or she had already been consoled by someone else and better than he could. She grasped her amulet and said, "Arlen, do you remember when Artsanna took Rose's voice."

Arlen thought back and could recall the memory clearly enough. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well I just thought it was a little funny," Lynde replied.

Arlen shook his head. "Not really, no."

Lynde sighed and looked to the pool. "Arlen, I know how her death must affect you. It put Rose in a dreadful state. But you must stay strong for your family. You must go home."

"Lynde, I wanted to see if you were alright," Arlen said, a little offended. "You just lost someone close to you. I think you would at least be affected a little."

"I was and still am, but Artsanna lives on," Lynde said. "She lives on in the hearts and minds of all of the people whose lives she touched. She lives on in those she saved, in those she fought beside, and those who will be too young to remember her."

Arlen was worried when Lynde looked to the sky, hand holding the amulet tightly. There was some sadness in her eyes, which was more than she had been displaying before. Her choice of words before interested him. "Who will be too young exactly?"

"Artsanna laid an egg before she died," Lynde explained with tears forming in her eyes. "I don't know if it has hatched yet, but I should go to it before then. And yet, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of… everything."

Arlen put his hand on her should, trying to comfort her. "If it's not going to have a mother, then it might as well have someone there who knew her; someone who knows how to take care of baby Dragons."

Lynde smiled slightly. "You're right, but how do I face it?"

"I don't know," Arlen replied. "And I don't know what I'll do when I get home." Lynde turned her head and looked at him with inquisitive eyes that began to dry. He told her about Leonie and how he loved her. He told her about how he had promised not to become involved with great going ons anymore and how he had broken that promise. At the end of it all he asked, "I don't know how I'll face her or my family when I get home."

Lynde shook her head and laughed. "If you truly love her, marry her. Life is too short not to make the most of today before it becomes tomorrow. Besides, it might make her accept the wait."

Arlen considered it. While it was a big step, he didn't know who better to make it with. While they hadn't known each other too long, it was long enough. As Lynde had said, life was short and he was going to make the most of it. He smiled and said, "Alright, Lynde, I'll do it. But if I can become a husband, you can be a… an aunt to that little baby Dragon."

Lynde sighed and shook her head smiling. "Alright, Arlen, I'll go. Let it not be said that Lynde of Cathalorn wasn't brave enough to face a baby Dragon or Arlen of Cathalorn his true love."

Lynde took her feet out of the pool and began to get up. She picked up her boots and started walking away. Arlen was confused by her leaving so asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go today, Arlen," Lynde said, turning around and walking backwards. "As soon as Ivuldr and Almei are able, I'm going to the Unknown Lands to be with that egg."

"Then I'm going to go to Cathalorn today, if I can," Arlen replied. Lynde nodded with a huge smile on her face and turned back to walking. Arlen though lowered the drape over the pool entrance and took his shirt off. He was going to take a bath after all.


	46. Finally Home

Arlen was let off just outside Cathalorn at the eastern rode into town near the ferry dock and the new East Forest. Snow had yet to fall in any great amount, so he could see the evergreen trees for what they were. It had grown to a splendor greater than the old East Forest, like the softer Elven woods of Du Weldenvarden. Apparently that Elf woman—Naule—had done well, and while he wanted to thank her, she was probably long gone. Arlen looked up to Haldthin and Kaesdir upon him and said, "Thank you for the ride."

 _You are welcome, Arlen of Cathalorn,_ Halthin replied, his green spiked head nodding. _It has been my pleasure to aid Kaesdir in fulfilling his debt to you._

Arlen smiled and said, "Farewell, Kaesdir, and you too, Haldthin. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again."

From high on Haldthin's back, Kaesdir laughed, "Oh we understand. And I hope we never meet you again either. Ha, ha, ha." And with that, Haldthin took off heading east over the sea.

Arlen turned from them and to the path before him. Either Naule and her Elves were courteous enough to give them a clear path through the forest, or the men of Cathalorn had already cleared one. In either case, there was a path to Cathalorn through the new East Forest, and he walked it.

His walk through the forest displayed the evergreens there, but did not prepare him for the sight of his home. It was almost unchanged, but there was a ballista set up on one of the nearby hills. He gaped and shook his head at the thing. While he knew his father had the sense or madness to be prepared for the unlikely, this was taking it a bit far. Other than that and the new houses being finished, nothing had really changed except the few trees that weren't evergreens that were now dead to the world.

He was about to head into town, but first he felt like he had to leave something behind. He drew his black sword, Mor'ranr, and stabbed it into the ground. The grass and dirt below gave way and his sword sunk halfway up the blade. He was done with that sword and everything it stood for. If he needed to, he would take up another, lesser sword in the defense of his home. For now and until someone really wanted it, this sword would stay in the ground where he left it and not be taken up by him for as long as he lived. This he sworn to himself would be a promise he would keep.

He turned towards the village and marched down into Cathalorn. Most of the people who saw him weren't people he knew very well, but they whispered and some ran on ahead to start other whispering. For a moment he thought that he had forgotten to shave, but after quickly feeling his face he disproved his theory. Seeing as how it was a small village and his family was somewhat prominent, he was probably known to these people on sight, so he could guess that they were whispering about his return. He kept going anyway as their gossip didn't matter to him; only finding Leonie and his family did.

He knew that the fastest way to that side of the village was through the center of town, where the great hall was, so he went there. He was walking along trying to figure out whether to go to Ludger's tavern or to his house first when he heard a joyful cry. "Arlen!" He looked to the source of the voice and saw Leonie running towards him, her golden hair streaming behind her. His heart leapt when he saw her and he ran to meet her. They met and embraced each other tightly, Leonie say, "I missed you, Arlen."

"I missed you too," Arlen said, his eyes tearing up. If it was up to him, he would have stayed there with Leonie in his arms and him in hers forever. But he couldn't because he wanted to look into her eyes when he asked his next question. He drew slightly away, his hands on Leonie's shoulders, and asked, "Leonie, will you marry me?"

Leonie smiled, her eyes tearing, and said, "Yes. Yes, I will marry you!" Arlen's heart leapt for joy the second time that day and he hugged her even closer, his eyes shut tight.

"Arlen!" a man's voice called—one that was quite familiar to him. He opened his eyes and looked to see Ehren and his mother coming towards him. They looked as well as ever, and happy at his return.

Arlen drew away from Leonie slightly and said to Ehren and his mother, "I'm back."

As his family approached, Leonie slyly cocked an eyebrow. She said, "That's not all you are, Arlen."

Arlen knew what she meant and now was as good a time as any to tell them. He looked to the family he had been born into and said, "Ehren, Mom, Leonie and I are getting married."

"Congratulations," Ehren said, patting him on the back. "It's about time too."

His mother put her hand to his shoulder and said smiling, "I'm happy for you, Arlen. Leonie's a fine woman, and she'll make an excellent wife."

"I'm right here," Leonie said with only a slight laugh to her voice.

"I know that," his mother replied, taking her hand off Arlen's shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure Arlen knew his choice was a good one, as was yours. I just hope he doesn't run off on another adventure."

"I won't," Arlen said, free from the outside world. "If I ever leave this village again, it'll be the worst crime I've ever committed. I promise you that if I ever go again, it'll be against the full force of my will. I'll fight to stay here with you."

"I know you will," Leonie said, stroking his check. She then leaned up and kissed him.

When she drew away, he saw her face but also a white flake drifting down. It looked like a snowflake, so he looked up to see if there were more. Indeed there was; snowflakes drifting down and setting down on the earth to make it white and new. It was the first real snow of the season, and that meant a festival was at hand.

Arlen would have celebrated without the snow though. He had returned to those he held most dear and instead of being angry with him they were joyous to have him back. He had returned never to go out again and to be free of the outside world. Perhaps they would need a great swordsman like him again one day, but they would have to find another one because he was there to stay. That alone was reason enough for joy, and now everyone else would share in the feeling with the first snow.

Arlen held Leonie to his chest and watched the snow fall. He then looked down and said, "May we always feel as we do in this moment, Leonie. May we always be glad to be with each other and free."


	47. The Ones Who Had Lost

Silberlind was relieved that the ride to the Tower was over as she dismounted Almei. The sky had gone gray and it was colder now than when she left, but that was just winter coming. It had taken nearly a week to get there, but she was at the Tower now and now she could take care of some business. She was going to be with her egg.

Technically it wasn't her egg though; it was Artsanna's. After all, Silberlind wasn't exactly Artsanna, but she wasn't Lynde either. She was both Artsanna and Lynde in a way and in another way something entirely different. In some ways she was still unused to her new state of being, but in other ways it felt more natural than what had been before. She could probably separate the minds that made her up, but she didn't want to. The merging brought clarity and intimacy that both of them had craved for so long, so Silberlind didn't want to give them up. But in the matter of the egg, it almost seemed a good idea to separate, though she wouldn't.

The egg might not even hatch for a long while. Dragon eggs could last for decades without hatching, though it did something to the Dragons who waited so long. Hopefully she wouldn't need to wait long as she didn't know what she might do if it took years. She would just have to see about it then.

Silberlind was about to see where the egg was when the sound of a Dragon's wings beating caught her attention. She looked to see Magnora landing on one of the towers along the wall. Alaric got off of the Dragon and started walking towards the dormitory. Silberlind didn't know why he was there, but didn't care that much until a small Dragon flew out to meet him.

The Dragon was young, only a few months old, and had deep, dark red scales. Silberlind recognized this Dragon as Shadow, Jeneve's Dragon before she died. She could only guess the worst would happen when the young Dragon met his Rider's killer.

Silberlind started towards them, hoping she would get there in time to stop whatever happened, when Alaric fell on his knees. Shadow was still a ways off and couldn't have caused him to do that, but he was on his knees nonetheless with his arms outstretched and his wards falling off of him. Silberlind was a few yards from him when he said warningly, "Don't try to interfere, Lynde or whatever your name is. This is for the best. There is no court to judge me, so I submit myself to the Dragon of the one I killed."

Silberlind could see his reasoning, but it was not good enough to justify this. He was one of the First Four, and even though he had committed a heinous crime—and on one of Lynde's friends—it was still no reason to possibly die because of it. Silberlind had to stop this, but she didn't know how.

Shadow landed in front of Alaric and hissed and growled at him. She did not know if he had been told Alaric was Jeneve's killer or if it was some sort of instinct, but he knew what crime the Rider Chief had committed. His anger towards Alaric was understandable, but she needed to stop him. She could physically hold him back, but it could be dangerous for her. But then Shadow did something unexpected; he spoke for the first time either of Silberlind's component personalities had ever heard him speak. His voice was light and young, but his words were mature enough. _I choose not to take your life as you did not choose to take the life of my Rider. We are equal for now._

Silberlind was astonished with Shadow. She had heard that most Dragons took revenge on those who had killed their Riders, but either because of youth or some unnaturally mature wisdom, Shadow had chosen to let Alaric live. She was glad that he had chosen this, but now she wondered what might become of him.

With no Rider, he would not be able to keep the peace as most Dragons of the Order did. It stood to reason that he might wish to rejoin his wild brethren, but at the same time he might not. **He** would choose his destiny now, not the circumstances of his birth—or hatching.

Now that her mind was on hatching and eggs she remembered Artsanna's and started on that again. She went to the building where they kept the eggs for the Riders, and Razrok's Dragon was there. She had yet to discover his name, but he directed her to where Artsanna's egg had stayed after being entrusted to them for temporary safekeeping. It was set on a pillow on top of a stone table with several other eggs on it. The silver egg had a certain purple-red tint to it, and was smaller than the egg that Artsanna had been hatched from, about the size of her head. Silberlind picked it up and carried it out of the building.

She went to Lynde's old room in the dormitories and put it on the floor there. She then took an extra blanket and put it underneath and around the egg. She then put her sword to one side and waited for the egg to hatch.

* * *

Silberlind heard a crack and she opened her eyes to see what it was. It was some time in the middle of the night and she was tired, but wanted to know where the crack had come from. She got up from her bed and took up a magical lamp that she lit with a word. She then searched the room for what might have made the sound that woke her.

She saw Artsanna's egg with a great split in it and a hatchling Dragon beside it. She felt her heart leap at the discovery. After over a week of waiting and watching, now in the light of the full moon and her magical lamp she saw the one she had waited so long for. She went to it carefully but joyfully.

She knelt down beside the hatchling, the color of its scales matching the silvery purple-red color of its egg. It had a head plate like Artsanna's and the beginnings of tough armor like Baeguirn. It tried to walk, but stumbled over almost immediately. Silberlind went to help it up, put it grabbed her hand and started nibbling on it. Its teeth were little more than stubs so it didn't hurt so much. She giggled at the little thing, but knew that it was probably trying to eat her.

Silberlind projected her mind into the hatchling's and started to talk to it without language. She spoke with emotions and memories rather than words, and it seemed to understand her. She told it of herself, of the people she was, especially Artsanna. The hatchling seemed to love when she talked of Artsanna enough that it let go of her finger.

This little one that she did not know if it was a he or a she immediately touched her heart. The hatchling was a lovely creature, full of life and promise. It would be a wild Dragon, and though Silberlind might not see it much later on, she had now and she would give it now. She embraced the hatchling if her arms and her mind, and though she would let go of it with her arms eventually, she would never stop loving it with her heart and mind.


	48. Sunrise

It was hard for Arlen to believe that it was only a year since he had come back from his last adventure. Perhaps it wasn't to the day, but it was around there. A year since he left Mor'ranr at the east road, a year since he married Leonie during the third day of the festival of the first snow, and a year since he last saw Lynde. It was all very hard to believe, but as he sat at the fireplace of his house he realized how long a year could be and how short it could be too.

This year had seen many joys and sorrows. Ehren had gotten married to Edaline, and while Arlen had found out about their relationship through a letter initially, he could not have been happier for his brother. Ludger had died, leaving his oldest daughter Marlis to run the tavern. Arlen along with many friends had built the house he now sat in since Ehren was going to be the one to inherit the family home. Crops were planted and harvested. The snow had left late and returned early this year, despite Brynner's predictions. It had been a very full year indeed, though it felt empty somehow.

Arlen had not left sight of Cathalorn in all that time. While it felt comforting to be so close to home, it made him feel like his year of adventures had never happened—that it was all just a dream. Some nights, like tonight, it kept him up. He couldn't stop thinking of all that had happened and how distant it seemed, and how unlikely. It just didn't seem real.

 _Come outside,_ a pale voice called. Arlen shook. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to him with the voice of their mind. He had forgotten how it felt, but he remembered quite a few things about it. While it was likely that they could have tried to attack his mind, they didn't so he figured they didn't want a fight. While that didn't rule out the possibility of assassins, he wanted to know who called to him. He got up from his chair by the fire and started out.

He got on his coat and headed out into the dead of night. A light snow was falling, but it was nothing to be afraid of as long as he didn't stay out too long. To the east the sky began to lighten, telling of the morning to come. He walked through the empty, snow covered streets, searching for where the voice had come from.

He turned a corner into an alley and found someone rather outlandish. They wore a white hood and cloak embroidered with depictions of silvery Dragons on it. The cloak concealed their form except for their chin and mouth and long brown hair that streamed out the front of the hood. He wasn't sure who this could be, whether he knew them or not, so asked, "Who are you?"

"I…" the figure began, her voice smooth and familiar. "I am someone you once knew." A pair of hands came out of the cloak and lowered the hood to reveal the face of one who Arlen had known well enough once. "You knew me as Lynde."

Arlen was surprised at Lynde's presence. He hadn't seen her in nearly a year. Why had she returned now? He was happy to see his friend again, but still unsure why she had come. "Lynde. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you how you were doing, Arlen," she said.

"You could have come during the day for that," Arlen pointed out. He then realized that she may have come now to avoid other people and only see Arlen. While effective, she did not need to hide. "Everyone, especially your family, would like to see you again, Lynde."

"I cannot," she said, shaking her head. After some hesitancy she admitted, "I cannot face them after all that has happened."

"Are you sure, Lynde?" he asked. She nodded almost immediately. He wasn't convinced though. "If you were brave enough to go after Eragon as I heard you had done, then you're brave enough to see your family one last time."

Lynde's eyes told everything. Despite all she had accomplished, she was afraid that the people she had known all her life would reject and fear her. She was afraid they would only see how she had changed and not remember who she was before. But all her breaking voice said was, "I cannot."

Arlen frowned. "Lynde, no matter who you are or what you've become, your family is the one thing that will be there for you no matter what. They will accept you, Lynde. They miss you more than anything. Now won't you stay for a little while?"

Arlen must have touched her heart with his words because she smiled and said, "Yes. Yes I will stay. But only if you stay with me and make sure I do not run."

"I can't promise that I can stop you, but I can promise that I'll try," Arlen said. He felt a smile come onto his face and they walked out of the alley into the light of the sunrise. He would make sure that she didn't run so that she could experience the home she had missed for so long. It was the least he could do.

 _And that, for good or ill, is how it ended_

* * *

 **Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed (as long as you had something constructive or supportive to say), favorited, and followed this series to its conclusion. Thank you for supporting me through a little less than a year of posting this story. It's been good, mostly, and I hope you all find other, perhaps better stories to read.**

 **That being said, this is the end. I don't believe I'm going to do any more major projects like this, and the likelihood of a small project is slim. I'm glad you enjoyed what you could. Farewell.**


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